Talia - Inferno of Ferelden
by mivpus
Summary: An excursion to the Synod goes horribly wrong, and the four young mages of the College; J'zargo, Brelyna, Onmund and Talia are trapped in the foreign and hostile lands of Ferelden. Struggling to find their way in a land that has no liking to mages, destiny yet has more in place for the students of Winterhold. Non-Dragonborn-fic.
1. Mages from across the sea

**Hello**

**So I have had this idea in my head for weeks on end, and it has messed completely with my focus on Aspect of Fire. I simply couldn't write more on the Mass Effect fic before I at least get this out to see if there's a market for it. If there is, great, then I'll do more of it. If there isn't, that'll be that and we'll simply go back to Mass Effect.**

**In my head-canon, Thedas is actually Atmora, the Eastern continent that so few have ever even seen the shorelines of, much less explored. So instead of jumping worlds, we remain on Nirn. As for the moons? Well, just because we only ever saw one moon in DA:O, doesn't mean there only was one. Time seemed to freeze when having a camp, so heck, maybe the other moon was just behind the trees?**

**One of the reasons for my fascination of this crossover, is that no one has seemed to ponder before, just what kind of reception Skyrim's mages would get in Ferelden. It always seems to be Hawke or one of his/her companions going over to Skyrim, not the other way around. So, let us see what we can get away with in this new story, shall we?**

**Picture cover by shadow000angel**

* * *

_Winterhold was once a great, powerful and wealthy hold, and its relationship with the College of Winterhold was good._

_In 4E 122, an unprecedented, cataclysmic event struck Winterhold and most of the areas along the coastline. A massive storm came in from the Sea of Ghosts, which brought huge waves that crashed into Winterhold. Most of the city fell into the sea, leaving the city in ruins both physically in terms of the destruction of the city itself, and in terms of the emotional and psychological damage to Winterhold's people. This event would eventually be referred to as the "Great Collapse." The event left Winterhold in ruins, and some had said that things would never be the same again, including Winterhold's relationship with the College of Winterhold. The people of Winterhold would eventually begin to blame the College for causing the Great Collapse. Winterhold has never really recovered from the Great Collapse. _- The Wanderer's guide to Skyrim, 'Winterhold and the College'.

...

**Mages from across the Sea**

* * *

A young Breton needed her sleep, right? Everyone always claimed that sleep was somewhat important for personal beauty and all that. In that case then…

"Why are you pulling me out of bed at… what time _is_ it even?" Talia grumbled, idly trying to slap Brelyna's hand away from her shoulder. Blasted elf and her blasted, twisted and no-doubt Daedric ways of being up when everyone else just wanted to do what normal human beings so fittingly had dubbed 'sleep'.

"It's morning, actually." Came the dry, yet gentle response. Aaaaand there went Talia's ability to be mad at Brelyna. Figures, really, when someone was as adorable as the only social Dark Elf Talia had met since Samus Aren had turned out to be a strictly professional type of guy. Man. Elf. Vampire-or-what-he-really-was. As long as the Arch Mage didn't start trying to bathe in Talia's blood, she didn't have a problem even if he was secretly a Daedra.

"Horker-shit it's morning… Please tell me it's a load?" She quietly begged, even as she rolled out of bed, fumbling for her boots. They were handed to her by Brelyna. Gods, why was she just so… so adorable? Sometimes, Talia just didn't get her. Still, no complaints with having the dark-skinned girl as a dormitory-mate.

"Are you still asleep?" Onmund, of course, had to poke his head in and give her more reason to doubt it was a load. Damn. Her head was still thrumming, like someone was bashing her skull in with a warhammer. _What on Nirn was in those… Skoma, riiiiiight. J'zargo better have a headache worse than mine or I'm dropping his furry butt from the bridge._

Why, oh why, had she indulged in his wares? _Sure J'zargo, let's have a go at it. Do I feel weird? Nope, I'm a cool cat. Why am I turning purple… wait, purple? That's probably a bad sign. Should have stopped at purple._

"Yes, Onmund. I am asleep and this is all a nightmare." She muttered, dusting off her robes. She envied J'zargo and Onmund each, when the bloody covers weren't sufficient at keeping out the bloody cold. Why did the College _have_ to be placed in the coldest populated place on the entire continent? She'd weep tears over the idiocy if she didn't still fear they'd freeze to he cheeks; "And in a moment, an ethereal wolf will suddenly come crashing down on the lot of you."

"You drank with J'zargo, I take it." It wasn't even a question. Damn that Onmund and his witty comments and… it wasn't even witty, but damn him still. How did he know? Was… was she still purple?

A quick check reassured her that she still had her gorgeous, Breton tan.

"You can't prove anything." She said, then added with a curious glance around; "Where _is_ the damned cat, by the way?"

"Sacrificing to the Khajit god of the latrines, last time I…" Onmund started. There was the sound of someone reeking in the latrines; "…heard."

"He's sick?"

"Somewhat, yes. I offered healing his sickness, but he declined, stating that he would _never be the greatest mage ever if he accepted help._" Onmund explained, smiling a bit at the jab; "I did heal you though."

Talia felt a small flush of gratitude. That _would_ explain why she wasn't currently joining the Khajit, emptying her bowels in the holes. The though alone made her stomach churn, and caused hairs to stand on her neck.

"Yeah well I… thanks." She muttered, picking the first the best edible object within arm's reach, which turned out to be a cold, half-eaten beef. Meh, she'd eaten worse at better places. Not that the College wasn't an awesome place, it was just damnable _cold_. Only warm place was the library, which was why she spent as much time there as she could get away with.

That Urag had just picked up a fresh collection of books on summoning, didn't have anything to do with it.

J'zargo joined them after a few more minutes of listening to him empty his body of fluids and whatever else was in a Khajit, looking none too pleased about anything. When Brelyna offered him a bottle of mead, Talia almost felt bad as J'zargo turned green beneath his furry face (and it really was all furry and fuzzy). So instead, she just forced down her own beef, and did the usual morning stretches, blowing at her cobber hair when the long strands fell into her face.

This, apparently, was a Breton-only thing. The first day she had been to the College, or rather the first morning, the others had looked at her, confused, when she did her exercises. Mother always did say a good physique was important to a mage.

Tolfdir, as per mandatory, was far too cheerful and energic for a man his age (surely, _he_ was bathing in the blood of virgins), and started up with informing the class of what news had come to him concerning the blasted so-called "trip" to Saarthal.

"Good morning, students." He greeted them. J'zargo muttered something about it not being a very good morning, but no one seemed to mind his annoyed outlook. It was the accepted punishment for being too proud to accept being healed for nausea. Tolfdir merely clapped his hands together;

"Let me start by congratulating you all on a more mature and efficient work in Saarthal than I could have hoped for. You each did your assigned tasks with nothing short of praiseworthy dedication. I was, I admit, ready to call off the class when we encountered the Draugr, but once more, you young ones gave me faith in the new generation." Tolfdir beamed at them, causing Talia to shift her feet in the awkward silence that followed.

It hadn't been _that_ bad. Draugr were scary, true, but in the end they were walking corpses. And corpses caught fire _surprisingly_ easy. It had more been the giant eye-ball-thingy that hovered over the ground that had served to freak her out. _Seriously, what in Lorkhan's two halves was that thing?_

"We still don't really know exactly what the giant orb we found _is_, but…" and the way Tolfdir drew out the 'but', made Talia nervous; "We're going to find out."

"J'zargo wonders if this thing can be harnessed. Clearly, it is of great magical power."

"Quite true." Tolfdir agreed; "We are just not equipped to handle something like this, at least not with our current staff. So, I have prepared a scroll of teleportation that will take you to Cyrodiil, more accurately, to the Synod."

"The what-now?" Talia asked. It sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn't for the life of her remember what it was.

"One of two officially registered magical authorities in the heartland. The Synod's main activities are searching for magical artifacts all across Tamriel, cataloging them and figuring out their uses." Tolfdir always did seem overly excited when asked to expand or explain something. Figured, seeing as the College had fewer students than teachers, so the old ones would always be more or less competing for the young ones attention and dedication.

It was a bit sad, in Talia's eyes.

"But they never share secrets, hmm?" J'zargo mused; "J'zargo knows, because he tried… learning what they knew of magic. They didn't want to teach." What he didn't say, but what every person in the room knew, Tolfdir maybe excluded, was that J'zargo was completely willing to snatch away artifacts if they would and could make him more powerful.

"Again, quite and sadly true. The Synod guard their secrets well, as opposed to the College. However, you won't be going to the Synod with merely a demand for answers. This scroll will allow you to travel to the Synod, pick up Master Artificer Sylvius Ambrent, and return here by help of a scroll prepared by the Synods themselves. All in less than a day."

"How come, if they have the scroll too, that we have to haul across Tamriel for this _one_ person?" Talia asked, tugging at her left braid of orange hair.

"Ah my dear, the scrolls can be a bit difficult to explain, even more so to make. Simply put, you need two scrolls to return to the original location, but a scroll that was already brought along, can bring someone back to the secondary location."

"J'zargo does not like this way of travel. Too loose, too unknown."

"Says the Khajit who would have set himself on fire if I hadn't tested out the bloody scrolls." Talia glanced at him.

"Says the woman, who pets the ghost of a wolf." The cat shot back. Clearly, he was in a grumpy mood this morning.

"Two-Sock is a summon, _not_ a ghost. And he'd completely petable, just so you know."

"It is a magical being, _not_ a pet for women who want to cuddle fluffy animals. J'zargo is fluffy and furry, why won't you pet him?" The Khajit asked, smirking with slightly bared fangs. The room went silent, even Tolfdir looking like someone had hit him with a fish.

"…regardless." He coughed after a few seconds of awkwardness; "Head down to Master Urag, he will give you the scroll. It is a delicate piece of work, so be careful when using it. Enjoy yourselves now, won't you?"

Urag was in one of his better mood that morning. Better, meaning he wasn't verbally chewing on J'zargo for even looking funny at some of the tomes. Instead he only gave the cat a wary look, before turning to Brelyna. In their class, the Dunmer was the most skilled with both summoning and using scrolls on the fly.

"Here you go, child. Remember, I want this back in the proper state it is now." The old orc grumped, handing Brelyna a large scroll. The parchment was bleached and musty, and it gave off a smell of burning sulfur. Talia didn't mind, really. It was just how magic items tended to smell.

She was just glad she hadn't been the one to be called 'child', by the old orc. She _was_ nineteen winters, as the Nords insisted on counting winters instead of Solstices. Come to think of it, Talia didn't actually know how old Brelyna was, only that the girl felt more like a sort of younger sister than an older one. Onmund, she knew, was the oldest in the class, with his oh-so-mature twenty-one winters. Of J'zargo, she had no clue.

"So… do we use it in here or…" She asked, pulling one of the books on the art of finer summoning from the shelf. It would be a bad idea if the scroll sent a wave of fire outwards when they left. Urag would probably use their hides for new book-covers in that case.

"Divines no!" The orc exclaimed, looking a mix between panicked and outraged that they would even think of casting magic near his treasured books; "You will leave my Arcanum before even flickering a flame, much less using a scroll of this magnitude."

"Right, right. Sorry, Urag, didn't mean to imply we were going to torch the Arcanum. I haven't read half the books here yet." Talia exclaimed a bit apologetic. Other people didn't understand what was so great about books. She'd seen a place on their way to Whiterun, once, where loads of valuables had been stolen from a lone house in a valley, but no one had even _thought_ to take the books on the shelves. Well, _she_ had, and as a result, J'zargo had lost some of his superior attitude towards her when her firebolts torched his moustache clean off. A pity, that it also took some of his fur too. At least back then he had accepted Onmund's healing, (and good thing too, he didn't look quite so good without fur in his face, odd as the thought was).

Instead of braving the almost constant blizzards and snowstorms raging outside, the young mages gathered in the Hall of Elements. It was still cold, but the warmth coming from the magical well in the center of the room, heated the room a bit more than the entrance to the College itself. The only thing that bothered Talia, was the giant, hovering orb. Somehow, it had been moved in the very short time between Tolfdir's greeting and their return. Magic could be creepy like that too.

"Ready for some instantaneous travel?" Brelyna asked, unfolding the scroll.

"Ready to head for a warm vacation, you mean?" Talia smirked, pulling her cobber hair behind her head. It always seemed to get in the way of her hood, and the hood really did frame her face well. Not that she _cared_ or anything, but Onmund thought it looked good too (and Brelyna did it too, of course), so why not?

"J'zargo believes a vacation lasts for more than a day."

"Fine then, a warm excursion." Talia corrected, giving the Khajit a flat look. Onmund chuckled at the exchanges, but remained silent as Brelyna started muttering the incantations on the parchment. Having memorized the spell, the Dunmer girl tucked the scroll into her robes, and started the mandatory weaving of magica with her hands. Talia and the rest stood closer to Brelyna. She could_ feel_ the magic in the air, like waves of energy washing through them. There still was the eerie sense given off by the orb, but she didn't want to pay it any heed. Big girls weren't afraid of glowing orbs found in Draugr-infested ruins.

"Next stop: Cyrodiil." She called, silently looking forward to spend at least a few hours at the bank of the warm lakes iconic to the heartland. She herself had never been there, but her parents had, back when the College of Whispers still allowed necromancy.

What followed next was a complete warp of reality, as the walls around them vanished in a whirlpool of arcane energy, and the floor swallowing them whole at the same time as it spat them out again. The entire experience lasted for less than five seconds, but felt like an hour of teeth-grindingly stressful travel. It was one of the less enjoyable ways of going somewhere that Talia knew, but at least it was over quickly.

Instead of being allowed to remain standing, the spell dropped them small group a few feet above ground, dumping them unceremoniously to the ground (except for J'zargo, of course). Talia landed flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. So, instead of jumping to her feet, she was forced to remain decked, staring at the gray sky above them;

"Ow…"

"That was… not my best transit to date." Brelyna sheepishly admitted from where she was picking herself out of a bush; "I was sure I would have landed us at the front stairs of the Synod."

"Well…" Onmund summarized as he stretched his back and looked around; "We seem to have been a bit off. I'm guessing we hit the forests outside the Imperial city."

Talia looked around, and realized he was right. All around them, trees and shrubbery was all she could see. Only, it wasn't _all_ she could see. There was something thankfully manmade too. It was a statue, at least ten foot high, in fine stone. It looked a bit like a woman, though years of neglect had obviously taken their toll on the monument.

"Glad I didn't land on that thing…" She muttered, picking herself up. The land around them seemed to be the start of a swamp, of some sort. The marshlands was actually generously strewn with what looked like old ruins, the biggest of them being a broken dome of stone, halfway sunken into the wet ground.

"Swamps. J'zargo does not like swamps. Too wet and humid for my delicate fur."

"If we hit the Black Marsh, I'm going to be _very_, _very_ annoyed." Talia said. She wanted to glare at the perpetrator, but since that seemed to be Brelyna, she glared at the statue instead.

"Sorry, sorry, I don't know what went wrong." The Dunmer girl exclaimed, unfolding the scroll from her robes. It was so easy to make the poor girl upset, but right now Talia just needed to vent on something, even if it meant giving a statue the stink-eye; "I did all the right incantations, I even said them when we left. I don't…I am an idiot."

"A very loose term." Talia muttered from her glare at the statue; "What makes you an idiot, aside from the fact that we seem to be in the wrong place?" If an Argonian was going to turn up now, she was going to send him off with an ethereal wolf chasing his scaly ass.

"The orb." Brelyna deadpanned; "We should have never attempted magic near something so unknown and…no, no no!" At her panicked outburst, Talia snapped around, only to see the elf frantically trying to stop the scroll in her hands from disappearing into thin air.

"What in Oblivion are you doing?!" She yelled, rushing to stop whatever was going on. The boys of the group, even J'zargo, seemed stunned by the fact that the scroll was dissolving before their very eyes.

"I didn't do anything!" Brelyna yelled back, trying to stop the last bits of the parchment from simply burning to a crisp between her fingers. Talia tried as well, but the parchment burned her skin; "it just started- I don't know!"

"Well…this is bad. We're stuck in a marsh, and J'zargo still wonders _where_ we are."

"Not Argonia, at least." Onmund said; "It's nowhere near warm enough, and the trees are temperate, like near Riften." His words made Talia turn to him instead of the now panicking Brelyna.

"I don't think this is Riften or anywhere nearby. Those ruins aren't Nordic, even I can see that, Onmund, and it's your blasted ancestors, so you should know."

"I meant, we might just be a few miles outside the Imperial city." He explained, with an annoyed tone that said he wasn't in the mood for her to drag his ancestors into the mess; "We'll find a road, find some travelers, and ask for directions."

"Tolfdir is going to kill me…" Brelyna muttered, slumping against a tree; "And if he doesn't, Urag will flay me alive for losing the scroll."

"How about we try focusing on finding a road before we focus on what the teachers will do to us?" Talia said, pulling the depressed girl from her slumped state on the humid ground. Though, if she was honest, Talia was worried too about how Urag would react to the story of how the priceless scroll just so happened to disintegrate because the blasted orb from Saarthal had been disruptive to the spell. And no one was to blame. Yeah, that was going to work really well with the man who probably valued books over his own children.

"Well, the sun is still below zenith, so…south would be _that_ way." Onmund pointed; "and seeing how we're in humid, yet cool temperatures, I'd guess we are somewhere north of the Imperial city."

South it was, then. Talia repressed a sigh of having to wander through marsh and hills and whatnot, wearing only her normal footwear. Magical boots were meant to be flexible and comfortable, not to endure a continental tour. _Damn… I should have stayed in my bed._

There was, even after hours of sullen walking, no sign of anyone they could ask though. The landscape barely changed, only adding a few more trees per mile travelled, and less moist ground. It was still humid as Dibella's inner thighs though, and strange birds kept chirping in ear-splittingly high pitches. The sickness from the morning had already caught up with J'zargo again, forcing him to lean against a tree as the nausea passed. At least Talia only had to endure a small migraine until finally choosing to ignore the attention it would garner, and heal herself for it. Neither Onmund nor Brelyna said anything though. Good. The healing left Talia a bit more drained than it should, likely because she only knew what healing spells her mother had drilled into her head. It had just never interested her as much as summoning or destruction magic had.

"I'm tired…" Brelyna complained as they topped a small hill; "Can't we stop for a break?"

"The sooner we get to a road, the sooner we can find someone and ask for directions. We can rest then." Onmund stated. While agreeing with Onmund, Talia really wanted nothing more than to set something on fire and curl up next to the warm flames. She had never been one for traveling. There was a _reason_ Skyrim had a carriage-service, for Daedras' sake!

"Someone approaches." J'zargo suddenly said, sniffing the air; "five men."

"What? Who?" Brelyna asked, receiving a look from the cat that said 'I don't damn well know who strangers are from their smell', but it was kept at a look.

"How far away?" Onmund said, glancing at their surroundings; "we'll meet them halfway and ask for directions."

"Not far." The cat sniffed again; "…I think, that way." J'zargo pointed back the way they'd come, causing Talia to smack her forehead. If they had just remained where they were, the people would have found them a lot sooner and saved them the torment of trekking through the forests and marshes.

"I'm not walking another step. We walked all the way up here, so they can damn well do the same." Talia stated, dumping herself down on the ground. It was still damnable cold, so she ignited a pair of dancing flames in her hands to spread some warmth.

"J'zargo thinks humans are unused to walking because you lack the glorious fur of Khajit." J'zargo purred, crouching next to Talia to steal some heat without having to risk scorching his own paws.

"Bite me, J'zargo."

"Oh, where would you prefer?" There was a sinister grin in the cat's voice and expression, and Talia slapped his robes with a burning palm, causing him to wince back. Stendarr, why did he always manage to get under her skin?

"I can see them." Onmund said after a few minutes of boring wait; "Uniformed soldiers. Good, they can direct us to the nearest road or town."

"Odd, I haven't seen that type of armor before…" Talia mused. The design was markedly different from what the guards and soldiers in Skyrim used. First of all, it looked even heavier than the armor she had seen that Legate wear, when an Imperial patrol made a stop in Winterhold. The helmets were a lot blockier too, reminding her more of a metal bucket than anything else, really.

Rubbing her flaming palms together for the last bit of heat, Talia got to her feet and followed Onmund as he went to greet the newcomers, pulling Brelyna to her feet along with her.

"Hello, are you from the Imperial City?" Onmund called as soon as the soldiers were close enough to hear him; "We are mages from Winterhold, and our spell somehow misfired and we ended up in a marsh."

The leader of the soldiers signaled his men to stop, then stepped forward towards Onmund. Sword drawn, Talia noted with a bit of unease.

"You are mages?" The man asked, looking between them. His eyes seemed to linger especially long at J'zargo and Brelyna; "None of you look old enough for a Senior Enchanter, what are you doing outside your tower?"

"The College? I don't know if I would call it a tower, and we're just students." Onmund explained; "Tolfdir of the College asked us to teleport to the Synod, in the Imperial city, but…" He cast a sympathetic glance at Brelyna; "Our scroll didn't work properly."

"I see." The soldiers said, his words drawn out while he obviously pondered Onmund's words; "I don't know what you mean by 'the Imperial city' or the Synod, but I need to see a written permission from the Knight-Commander at your tower, or you will have to come with us."

"Our… what-now?" Talia asked, stepping up next to Onmund, arms folded across her chest; "Winterhold doesn't have any Knight-Commanders, we barely have any soldiers at all, aside from the Jarl's own guards."

"I see. Before we proceed, we must deal with the abominations in your group." The soldier said, taking a step towards Brelyna and J'zargo; "I regret that they were possessed, but you know it is the risk."

"What?" Brelyna said in clear disbelief as the unknown soldier actually stepped towards her like he was going to harm her.

"What are you doing?" Onmund demanded; "What do you mean by abominations?"

The soldier turned, regarding Onmund for a moment, before gesturing at the now-alert and hissing Khajit, and the frightened, but wary Dark Elf;

"I understand why you left, I do. These two were clearly not prepared for their Harrowing. I'm going to end their suffering."

"I am _not_ suffering!" Brelyna exclaimed, leaping back next to J'zargo; "I feel completely fine!"

"J'zargo thinks these are madmen. We should leave before they decide to kill us up close. J'zargo's claws are not meant for armor."

"What in Julianos' name are you…" Talia started, the realization dawned upon her with all the dread that followed; "You want to kill people who haven't even lifted a hand against you?"

"What? No! You can't do that!" Onmund exclaimed, positioning himself between the soldiers and the rest of his group. Talia could already feel the magic wafting through the air around him.

"Stand aside, mage. You're lucky we're just taking the two of you back to the Circle." One of the other soldiers declared, with a lot less sympathy in his voice than the man who currently seemed to contemplate whether or not to simply run Onmund through to get to the non-human mages. Were things really this bad down south in Tamriel, that soldiers just killed any mage not human?

The thought made Talia's blood boil.

"I dare you to lay a finger on my friends!" She shouted, hands ablaze with fire. Onmund was right beside her, an aura of Skyrim's cold surrounding him. J'zargo, she knew, could probably handle himself just fine too, but she had never seen Brelyna in an actual fight.

"Don't try it, mage. Don't throw away your life for abominations. Your friends are dead, it is time you realized this." The soldier took another step forward.

And Two-Sock jumped him, having been summoned the moment the man made a move. Talia jumped back, as did Onmund, ready for a fight. She had faced the undead in Saarthal. Human soldiers were nothing in comparison to battling a Draugr Deathlord.

The next thing she knew, the soldiers clapped their hands together behind their leader, the spread their armored palms outward in a snapping motion. Two-Sock dissolved, and a wave of exhaustion hit Talia, causing her to stagger and fall backwards onto her back. Onmund already being there, he provided a sort of cushion for the impact. _Gods… what…what…_

Her head felt like an overdose of Skoma had hit her without warning, and her mind was swimming in the clouds, unable to focus on even blinking one eye at a time, much less cast a spell. Her hearing started becoming fuzzy, even as she was roughly turned onto her stomach and clasped in, were those irons?_ Am… are… arrest… arrested? Jzzz… Brelyn…aaa…_

"The abominations fled. The one… cat, seemed to… other one up… into the wood… follow… bring ba… Kinloch…

* * *

Even as all was dark, Talia started regaining her senses. She could feel something soft beneath her, like a bed, and something soft covering her skin. She had slept without clothes on, apparently. Great, that would mean catching a cold the second she would step from her bed. Well, then she was just going to stay in bed. Ought to, too, with the headache currently hammering away at her mind. And oh, someone was talking.

"…still think we should wait, Knight-Commander."

"I understand your concern, but they are clearly dangerous and have already been in contact with abominations. The sooner the better." Oh, those weren't familiar voices. She hadn't fallen asleep in the inn again, had she?

"Perhaps, but… this is all a bit much. Did Templar Morag say where they had run off from?"

"No, he didn't seem to know. A place called Winterhold was mentioned, but no tower exist with that name, nor any place in Ferelden, to my knowledge."

"She seems quite old, never to have undergone the trial. Are we sure she is untested?" There was a bit of concern there and… were they talking about her? It seemed really strange, considering they referred to someplace called 'Ferelden'. It didn't help her headache one bit.

"We ask her then. If she knows what goes on in the trial, she has been through it. If not, we put her through it. Acceptable?" The other voice was a lot sterner, and didn't sound very nice. Next thing she knew, a pair of strong hands shook her awake, or at least to a lot more conscious state than before. Also it set fire to her headache.

"Wha… what… where…" She muttered as her eyes slid open, revealing a bearded man in heavy armor; "You… you're not Tolfdir."

"Do you know what the Harrowing is?" The man asked, completely ignoring the fact that he was, indeed, not Tolfdir. Talia pressed her eyes shut and tried retreating under the covers. Said covers were rapidly yanked away, laying bare her almost-naked form, bar underwear she herself had definitely _not _put on. _Who… someone… saw me…oh Gods._

"I asked you a question." He sounded _really_ determined, and angry. But the worst part was the overwhelming embarrassment that someone had undressed her completely and given her something else to wear. Someone had seen her _butt-naked_, and the thought was so uncomfortable it almost made her cry. People could have groped her while she was asleep!

"Why am I- where are my clothes!"

"Do you know what the Harrowing is?" The man repeated.

"No! Damn you, and what happened to my where am I?!" Her demand for clothing was abruptly changed when she realized she wasn't in any place she recognized. The room was dimply lit, rather small and cold. Why was everywhere she woke up_ cold_?

"I see." A man, the one with the concerned voice, said from behind the armored one; "Then, she goes through the Harrowing. Tonight."

"The what…" Talia muttered, even as the two old men left her small room, locking the heavy door behind them; "…what just happened?" She muttered, throwing off her covers to find a set of dull robes, more a dress than anything else, lying neatly folded on the floor. _They can't be… I _don't_ do dresses._

Flickering her hand with magica, she summoned Two-Sock. The ethereal wolf whined at sensing her mood, and placed its heavy head in her lab. There was something about being able to summon a confidante, that really couldn't be topped by a regular hound. Even if Two-Sock's ghostly eyes would have been even better if they were black orbs of love. Still, she ran her fingers through the ectoplasmic fur;

"Hey boy…" The wolf gave a small, soft whine in return; "Yeah… I have no idea what's going on either. They want me to wear a dress…"

The yiff she received told her that Two-Sock found the idea stupid too. Good. She always knew he was a smart boy. _And he doesn't leave droppings on the floor either. Mother would love him._

"Still… it's better than walk around in this." She gestured at her uncomfortable bra and smalls; "It's like they made it just to be chafing. You know what happened to the others?"

A sad whine. Figures. Two-Sock didn't know. Not that she had expected he would, but talking to the wolf made everything feel a bit less gloomy. And what _was_ the Harrowing people talked about all the time?

Annoyed with the situation in general, Talia picked up one of the shoes placed for her to wear, and hurled it at the door with a disappointingly soft _thud_ being the result. Ignoring the rest of the clothing, She buried herself beneath the covers, let Two-Sock climb up and rest next to her, and just shut out the rest of the world.

"Dinner!" A series of heavy, frustratingly noisy knocks to her door stirred Talia awake. Two-Sock had vanished at some point, probably after the magica binding him had run out, leaving her without his comforting presence. When the knocking stopped, a small tray of dry cheese and bread was shoved beneath her door. Dungeon-food.

"Where are my friends?" she demanded, giving the door the stink-eye. The bucket-helmet of one of the soldiers came into view on the other side of a barred slide-port.

"Eat, mage."

"I said, where are my friends?" She demanded again, stomping her way to the door, ignoring the fact that she was still nearly naked.

"Put some clothes on, woman. You will not tempt me. Your friends' location is of no matter until you have undergone the Harrowing. Eat."

"Suck a Horker." Talia growled, grabbing the tray with "food". Divines, she had never had to eat this kind of food. Back home there was always enough food, because Bretons actually knew how to cultivate the damn land with magic, as opposed to the Nords who just worked until their backs broke and called it a day.

The bread was hard and dry, almost impossible to chew without water or mead. And nothing was offered to drink, even with the cheese being moldy and dry as well. By the Emperor, didn't these people know how to cook?

But she was a mage, damn it. She could have made her own water if it wouldn't have meant licking frostbite from the wall, seeing as there was no way the tray could hold water. _Damn this place to the deepest planes of Oblivion. Their service is worse than Skyrim's dungeons… I think._

Two-Sock was her only reprieve from loneliness, his ghostly form still being better than a real dog or wolf any day. Swallowing her pride, Talia put on the dress, and slumped down on the bed with the wolf next to her. This time, she stayed awake, and Two-Sock stayed with her.

"I'm going to give them four more hours. If no one comes by, releases and apologizes to us, we're blasting our way out of here, right boy?" She mused, scratching the wolf behind his ears and under his jaw, prompting a merry waggling of his bushy, transparent tail.

The situation would have it, she was let out only an hour later. Though, it wasn't with an apology. Four heavily armed and armored soldiers, the same type as those who attacked them earlier, were waiting to escort her someplace new. When Two-Sock made to follow her, one of the soldiers muttered something and hit her wolf with some sort of energy, banishing it.

The entire trip to the destination went with Talia going through her repertoire of insults and curses directed at the soldier. Who on Nirn did he think he was, to just attack her companion out of nowhere? Shithead, is what he was. A freshly laid cluster of mammoth-dung, made into the guy's head.

It wasn't until someone clasped a hand over her mouth to stop her swearing, that she realized she was at her destination. An enormous room, at least the size of the Hall of Elements, where a bowl of glowing blue liquids was at the center off it all. A man in darker robes stood next to it, wearing a marginally less hostile expression than the armored men.

"What is your name, my dear?" The man asked. Talia wanted to chew him out, say that after locking her up and treating her like she had professed to Talos in front of Ancano himself, that he had no right to be so informal with her. But she swallowed her bile, at least for now.

"Talia Aulus Geotien."

"Do you know why you are here?" The old man, a mage obviously, asked.

"Because Brelyna messed up." She bit out. Brelyna wasn't there to hear her say it, so she could be honest and say Brelyna had messed up. Because she had.

"I see. And, who, if I may ask, is this Brelyna?"

"A Dunmer student. She's also my friend and a nice girl that one of those soldiers tried to kill without reason."

"The Dark-skinned abomination?" There was no malice in the man's words, but rather a simple curiosity. Talia bristled at the accusation nonetheless;

"Why the flying damn are you people calling her an abomination?" She growled. A few of the remaining soldiers touched the hilts of their swords, a silent warning that she did catch. She was pissed off, not stupid.

"Are you saying she isn't a possessed elf?"

"There with the _possessed _thing again. Why by _the Eight_ would you start accusing people of being possessed, just because they happen to be Dunmer? Next thing, you'll declare the whole of Elsweyr or Argonia _possessed_ for being inhabited by walking lizards and cats." She exclaimed, folding her arms beneath her breasts; "Honestly, you people are even more bigoted than the blasted Stormcloaks."

The room was silent for a long while. The mage who hadn't introduce himself yet, seemed to mull over her words. Talia shifted on her feet, glancing at the stock-still guards lining the walls of the room. There was no escape through fighting, she realized thát much. Somehow, the armored soldiers could drain her of magica in an instant. It was dirty cheating, but that was where things were at.

"Where, to put it bluntly, would you say we are?"

"I don't know, and frankly I don't care as long as you just let us go again. Whatever messed up agendas you have going on here, the College will not be happy when they find out you detained us. And what in Oblivion _happened to my friends_?"

"You are in the Tower of Magi, also known as Kinloch Hold. This is the Harrowing Chamber." The mage explained.

"Funny, I was so sure it was the Blue Palace. Are we even _near_ Cyrodiil?"

"Cyrodiil?" there was clear and honest confusion in his voice, something that unnerved Talia more than being locked up ever could. _Just where by Sithis are we?_

"The…Heartland? The seat of the Empire? The Imperial City?" She tried. The ever confused wrinkles in the old mage's eyes didn't calm her down one bit; "Okay, where by the tits of Dibella _are_ we?"

"Kinloch Hold. The tower stands in Lake Calenhad, and we are in the nation of Ferelden. The only Empire I can think of would be the Tevinters, and that was centuries ago, child."

"…what." Talia stammered, her hands falling from her chest, to simply dangling by her side.

"Do you know what will happen here, in this chamber?" The old mage asked, returning her attention to the pedestal in the middle of the room.

"…no?" She muttered, so confused that she was unable to really deny the man's gesture for her to step closer.

"You will undergo the Harrowing. If you pass, there will be no further danger or mistreatment to you, and we can properly discuss where you come from. Until then, we cannot know if your words are directed by demons from the Fade." The words were delivered as gently as he probably could, but still frustrated the Breton to no end.

"Demons from… I don't even… Fine, what do I have to do to pass your test?" She brushed off whatever concerns she had, and leveled a glare at the surrounding guards. She would pass whatever the old mage asked of her, and then find the soldier who dissolved Two-Sock.

"Step up to the pedestal, and drink its contents." For some reason, the words reminded her of heavy drinking with J'zargo, except that J'zargo's alcohol came in bottles and mugs, not stone-fountains. What was she, a bird?

The water tasted a lot like magic smelled, only it also made her nauseous and caused her to collapse on the ground. Her last thoughts, even as consciousness slipped, was that magic didn't have thát effect on her.

Opening her eyes, Talia was a bit surprised at what she saw. It definitely was a bit weird, especially because she was damn sure she had been kicked out by the same innkeeper who was now holding a mug labelled "infinite mead" towards her.

"Ehm… hi?"

"My Lady, it is my deepest honor to offer you everything I have to serve." He exclaimed, his overly awed voice reminding her of home. Was it really that long since people had bowed and scraped before her? No matter, at least this meant the whole 'captured by soldiers' thing was a dream. Good thing too, because someone had hurt Two-Sock in it, and maybe Brelyna and J'zargo had even died. Still, just a dream.

"Did I fall asleep on the benches again?" She muttered rather sheepishly. It was just that fire was _so_ nice to sleep next to.

"You did, but it doesn't matter. A courier arrived from High Rock with news from your esteemed father. He has cancelled the arranged marriage, if only you will return home to the estates." Well… that was unexpected news. Though not at all unpleasant.

"He did? Damn… I don't know what to say, really." She muttered, then eyed the innkeeper; "didn't you kick me out not long ago?"

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, milady, but it was nothing personal. I only hope to offer you some compensation for the terrible offense I caused."

"What happened to the roof?" Talia asked, having noticed that something was off. The roof was, indeed, gone, instead showing a vast expanse of air, filled with floating islands and thick wines; "…this is trippy."

"Milady?" The innkeeper asked, uncertainty in his voice. Deciding pondering really wasn't worth it, Talia grabbed the mead, sniffed it and handed it back again. She suddenly didn't feel like getting drunk anymore.

"Thanks. Listen, I'm going home, then. Father will no doubt be pleased to see me." She gave the innkeeper a curt smile, the ducked out the door. Outside, everything was normal. The winds were howling and snow was falling slowly despite the blowing storms. Guards in their cuirass's patrolled the street, holding torches to lighten their paths.

"Talia?" She turned, noticing a hooded man who was leaning against the outside of the inn, a friendly smile visible in the part of his face left visible by his hood.

"Yeah?"

"I am Ankus Tevian, and… I need your help. I'll reward you for it, of course." Well, it wasn't actually cold, despite the weather, so why not.

"Sure, I suppose."

"I have come across a tome that allows whomever reads it to master the arts of arcane destruction. here, at least..." Now, she was piqued. This was exactly what she had been looking for all along, and to have it just offered to her…

"What's the price?" She did her best to suppress the eagerness in her voice, but it didn't really work. Ankus smiled friendly at her.

"You see, I was like you, once. I was a promising mage, and the Circle had me undergo the Harrowing. You do, of course, remember that this is all a dream?"

"Of course… no one ever offered me free mead before." She replied, a little sullen at the realization; "Wait, so…. What?"

"I never managed to finish the tests, and as a result, I couldn't escape this dreamscape. An eternity of wine, entertainment and, no offense intended, lusty women throwing themselves at me, can't make up for the real world." Talia perked up at that. If he could have lusty women… could she too?

"Wait, you mean you just have to wish for something, and it comes true here?" She asked, and dared hope for yes.

"It _is_ a dream." He nodded. Talia felt a grin spreading on her lips. _Come on, imagine. Imagine. Curves, long legs, perfect skin… what else… what else?;_ "You're not trying to dream up something similar, are you?"

"…No." Talia tried, even as she turned to the sound of soft moaning. The entire street was gone, replaced with a lush field of soft grass and mosses, warm rays shining down through the canopy of leaves above her. She couldn't as much feel as sense and see her own body change, becoming much more appropriate as she found what her eyes were lusting for.  
In the middle of the clearing, three servants clad in nothing but silken, transparent gowns were pleasuring each other, the two girls and the boy sending her cheeky and inviting smiles in-between the gasps of pleasure; "…Would never even think of it."

"Listen, can you please just get us out of here? I'm not in the mood to watch you playing around in some messed up sexual fantasy. You won't get the tome unless I get out of here." Ankus groaned. The fantasy of Talia's adolescent memories faded, and her own body returned to its more boring, if natural look.

"Fine… so, what do I do to get out of here?" She exclaimed, once again watching as guards did their routes on the street of Winterhold. Ankus pointed at the College, barely visible in the flying snow;

"A demon holds this realm. You'll have to defeat it in order to pass and return. I… wasn't able to do it."

"So, I just have to kick its ass?" She summarized, squinting her eyes to better see the College. Ankus nodded; "Easy."

"I hope so. I will try to help you, where I can. The demon will be in the shape of a person you know, to fool you."

"Figures. As long as it isn't Urag." Demon or not, when the orc was angry, he was _scary_."

* * *

Morrigan was not what one would describe as a normal girl. Normal girls did not grow up taking the shapes of wolves, spiders and birds. Normal girls also likely wore more clothing than she did.

It mattered little, she knew. Normal girls were the type to fancy those idiot Templars, and Morrigan was not one such girl.

Indeed, she was far superior to such idle fantasies as romance and happy endings in castles of fine stone. Still, the mirror would have been a nice keepsake, from her one-time attempt at exploring the world outside her forest. But, mother was right. Such things were superficial, and not fitting for one of her kind.

Speaking of the old hag, Mother seemed to be returning, the shape of a large avian blotting out the sun as Flemmeth landed with both claws full. It was odd, at first, when mother had explained that she must 'go and interfere with destiny', as she worded it, but Morrigan had long since gotten used to her mother speaking in riddles.

Indeed, it was not prey, which filled the talons of Flemmeth's giant bird form, but rather, two people. One, she at first thought to be very ill due to her coloration, and another she realized to be from a land far, far away. Cats in robes were, after all, not that very common in Ferelden, were they?

* * *

Setting Two-Sock loose on Ancano was, Talia realized, far more satisfying than she had ever imagined. She was only disturbed when the Thalmor's skin ruptured, and a humanoid being of living fire stepped out, swatting aside the ethereal wolf like an annoying fly.

"BURN! KILL!" It raged, moving towards her like a snail would, only much faster. Both Talia's hands shone with cold, and she sent the demon, what Ankus in the middle of his panicking had called a "rage demon", a smirk;

"You know, that's a really good idea." And she poured frostbite at the demon, causing its flaming surface to crack and rupture when the superheated liquids met with arcane cold. If a demon could feel pain, the agonized howls coming from the demon in front of Talia was probably a good show of it.

"That… was freaky… but surprisingly easy." She stretched and glanced at Ankus, who looked slightly uncomfortable at the show; "Well, what now?"

"Now? I don't know, I thought the trial would be done by now." The younger man muttered; "Maybe… try closing and opening your eyes?"

Talia did, and nothing came of it. There was something she was missing, she was sure of it. Demons… Demons. They took on human shapes to trick people… what more?

"How long have you been here, by the way?" She asked Ankus. The young mage sighed;

"A long time." He muttered.

"If I'm sleeping while here… how does my body get food and such?" She pondered, and once again, Ankus looked uncomfortable at her question.

"It doesn't. If you spend too long in here, your body withers away and dies."

"Then… wouldn't you be dead too?" She didn't fully understand how this place worked, but it seemed logical, to her at least. Still, there was probably some simple explanation here that would make her look stupid when he answered it.

"You just _had_ to start questioning me." There was a definite change to his voice now. It was deeper, and far more malicious than that of the anxious and frustrated student.

"I'm guessing this means I overlooked a demon…"

"If you will not _let_ me out, I will come out, through _you_." And with thát, Ankus vanished, replaced by something that looked… really _odd_. It was like a picture of one of those Dragon Priests, only taller, and purple, of all things.

Talia started backing off a lot faster than she would call a smart retreat; "Nope, nope, nope, nope."

"There is nothing to fear. You are different from the mages in Ferelden, you don't have to be afraid of demons. Let me bolster your magic, you can pull J'zargo through the dirt, _humiliate_ him!"

"I really think I should go. As in, far away from you." Talia forced out through a fake, toothy smile; "It's nothing personal, I just don't love the idea of demons toying with my mind."

"Oh, but where will you go?" The demon gestured for the entire dreamscape; "I am everywhere."

So, she was trapped with a demon in her own dream. This was starting to look more and more like something she would be seeing after taking Skoma. In retrospect, maybe that meant she should _stop_ with the Skoma. Even if J'zargo was at his friendliest when a bit of the sugary stuff had touched his tongue. Mead was all she needed from now on.

In other words, she was going to have to fight this thing. Fantastic.

Summoning up Two-Sock again, she let the wolf loose on the demon while flinging both spikes of ice and bolts of flame at the thing. Some sort of arcane shield appeared around it, protecting it from her attacks. She just kept it up, dismissing the very idea of not being able to kill something with sufficient fire.

Ankus, or whatever its real name was, swatted Two-Sock aside, slamming the wolf into a rock where it dissolved with a pathetic whine. Talia ground her teeth and decided to sod the consequences of trying out her weakest magical attack. Gathering both hands together, she leapt back when the demon sent a fireball of its own after her, feeling the flames lick at her robes even as she was in the air. _This is probably a bad thing._

She realized she hadn't stopped falling yet, and looked behind her. There was nothing there, except for the endless depths of the dreamscape. Above her, the demon had leapt after her, a guttural laughter in its throat.

Well. Screw that laughter. She unleashed the gathered lightning in her hands, sending it towards the demon in a stream of electric energy. The demon yelled and howled as it twisted from the electric attack, and suddenly, Talia hit the ground hard.

Opening her eyes, she was staring at the ceiling of the Harrowing Chamber, and the old mage who had sent her into the damned dream in the first place.

"Good. You have passed the Harrowing." He said, a kind and relieved smile on his bearded face. Talia was, despite just having slept, far too tired to respond, and simply fell asleep on the floor.

* * *

**I actually dare say that went rather well. Before anything is said about Talia using "the _Eight_", she is Breton. Bretons never fought the outlawing of Talos, and as a result, she was brought up without Talos as a Divine.**

**Well, thoughts? **


	2. Prisoner of Stone

**Greetings, those who follow the Tale of Talia**

**We have another long chapter ahead, and one I really liked writing. Keep in mind that I am not a basher of characters (unless they are Ancano. Then I'll bash him with a cricket-bat), and all descriptions of events and characters are viewed from Talia's eyes.**

**Author's reply to Sergeant Sonji: "Quite true, there are multiple major differences between the magic of Thedas and that of Tamriel. However, I find that similarities are multiple enough as well to allow me to merge the two. Magic, even in worlds where it is well-established, would be foolish to assume fully explored. (Also, I set my character in Aspect of Fire _On fire_, and no one batted an eye). It really is the best answer I can give on that part. As for how the Templars can banish Two-Sock and drain magica, I decided to give them a few common traits, to allow the protagonist to not be overly overpowered. If templars were useless agaisnt Tamriel's mages, there wouldn't be much of a story. Scrolls, as I understand and view them, are one-shot items in-game, but lorewise there really is no reason for the parchment to dissolve after using it to summon, say, a spike of ice."**

**Alright, let us get going with some brutal events.**

* * *

_These truths the Maker has revealed to me:_  
_As there is but one world, _  
_One life, one death, there is _  
_But one god, and He is our Maker._

_They are sinners, who have given their love_  
_To false gods._

_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.  
Foul and corrupt are they  
Who have taken His gift  
And turned it against His children._

_They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones.  
They shall find no rest in this world  
Or beyond._

Canticle of Transfigurations 1:1-1:5

* * *

**Prisoner of Stone**

* * *

Templar Cullen was on duty. It wasn't as bad as the others thought, having to spend time around the mages. A lot of them were surprisingly well-meaning people, even if they were locked in the tower, for their own protection, of course.

Cullen had been in the tower for just over a year, and had so far yet to meet a mage that deserved the stigma as dangerous or very unsympathetic. Mages, like the young Jorwan, were just people like him. Then again, the Knight-Commander had taken great care to explain that it wasn't the _person_, as much as it was the potential host they were to demons, that was so dangerous. True, it was a risk. Cullen knew that much.

Still didn't mean he enjoyed watching the newest resident in the tower, the young redheaded woman, collapse on the floor as she underwent the Harrowing. It was never a pleasant experience, but at least most other apprentices had an inkling as what to prepare for. From what Cullen had been able to discern from the girl's short conversation with First Enchanter Irving, she had no idea what a Harrowing even was, much less what to expect because Irving didn't even tell her.

It was, how should he put it, not a very pleasant experience to be him. Mainly because he had been entrusted with the duty, or plight, to end the girl's suffering if a demon won her over. He had been standing above the girl, sword ready, as she started… he wasn't sure _what_ she did. It wasn't like anything he had ever witnessed before.

Instead of the usual convulsions that meant the girl had encountered and was fighting a demon in the Fade, she started gaining a faint, shimmering and purple aura. It was faint enough that only he, as the one standing above her, could see.

"What in the Maker…" he whispered to himself, gripping the handle on his sword tighter. If she was turning, he didn't want her to suffer. A lot of people mistrusted and even looked down upon mages due to their susceptibility to demons and their potential for wreaking havoc. Still, the Chant of Light dictated that magic was never to rule over man, and as such, mages were pretty much doomed to be seen as threats. A sad fact, but a fact nonetheless.

The aura persisted, pulsating gently over the girl's limp form. There was no convulsion, not even a sign of distress or frustration. If anything, the girl had a slightly… mischievous smile on her lips for just enough time that Cullen was certain he hadn't just seen things.

The strangest thing was, she didn't even remotely behave like someone trapped in a lyrium-induced sleep. If anything, she looked like a perfectly normal person sleeping, not someone battling a demon. Still, the purple aura was a strange new trait he hadn't seen before. Maybe the girl was a spirit healer and… no, no they didn't get purple auras. Then what was it?

If the girl made it through, he decided, he would inform Irving. If she didn't, the aura was likely a mere sign of the demon winning through. Yes, yes that seemed the most reasonable thing to do.

The smile turned into a frown on the girl's expression, then replaced by what almost looked like amusement. It was definitely the strangest Harrowing Cullen had been witness to so far. The amusement vanished, turning into anger, then more amusement, then surprise. When the surprise suddenly became panic, Cullen could feel his heart speed up. Panic was usually a sign that demons were winning.

The grip on his sword tightened, ready to trust into the heart of the poor girl if she did indeed become possessed. By Andraste, he hated this part.

The girl's eyes opened with a gasp, showing clear blue eyes staring at the ceiling in panicked surprise. Cullen breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back, sword sheathed before she was going to notice the drawn weapon. First Enchanter Irving was already at her side, kneeling next to the girl.

"Good. You have passed the Harrowing." He said, comforting the obviously exhausted girl. She merely looked at him idly, before passing right back out. Cullen blinked in mild surprise, having not expected the apprentice to pass out right after sleep. Again, another unexpected reaction to the Harrowing. Most apprentices were too shaken after the experience to even consider going back to sleep.

Irving sighed, having likely endured the same anxiousness that Cullen himself had been under. Irving, he knew, just had a lot more at stake. Every apprentice was his responsibility, and now that Enchanter Wynne had left the tower, there was a lot more on the old man's shoulders. In a way, that could be why the Knight-Commander had such respect for the old mage. He shouldered a tremendous burden, something Templars should be able to understand and sympathize with. Sadly, not many did.

"Templar Cullen, would you be so kind as to take Talia to the apprentices' dormitory? I suspect she wouldn't mind waking up in a bed, rather on the cold stone floor." Irving said, still looking only at the girl. Cullen nodded, and picked Talia up from the floor. She was surprisingly light, considering she was at least his height.

"Of course, First Enchanter."

"And, would you tell them to bring her companion in a few minutes?" Irving said, with a lot less joy than his former words held. True, men were often more easily taken by demons, though Cullen wasn't sure why. Maybe pride, but weren't women known for far more… well, shallow prides than men? It wasn't something worth pondering, in any case.

"Yes, First Enchanter." He replied again, leaving the room with his burden. The trip down, after delivering the message to his brothers, was mostly uneventful. A few curious glances here and there, at seeing a templar carrying a, he admitted, rather beautiful young woman in bridal-style. Still, he was above blushing at such things.

The main dormitory on the first level was meant for apprentices only, and as such held a few more templars than the others levels. This was mainly because apprentices were at the most risk from encroaching demons, and templars were needed for a quick response to any threat from the Fade. At least this one girl was now safe from the demons, for the time being. Cullen deposited her in the newly vacant bed that had belonged to Simon Amell, one of the other apprentices before his Harrowing. Cullen had been the one to cut him down.

She was rather striking, Cullen thought as he pulled the covers over her. He wasn't going to start undressing her, the thought alone made him cringe at the invasion of her privacy. The bed next to hers turned out to belong to Jorwan, of all people. Jorwan was a good boy, if rather awkward around templars. Cullen suspected it stemmed from the templars who had picked the boy up from his farm.

Having made sure everything was in order, with no one looking at the young woman the wrong way, Cullen made his way back to the Harrowing Chamber. It was likely he was going to be needed again soon, much as he hoped otherwise. He hadn't seen Talia's companion, but the other templars had mentioned he constantly tried explaining that they hadn't done anything wrong. It was odd, like the young mage didn't understand why he was being held. Were his parents apostates outside the Chantry?

The Harrowing Chamber was once more set in the gloomy mood that signaled readiness. The boy was on the floor, a purple aura surrounding him as well. Cullen started speculating, if maybe this was something common to the hometown of the two young mages, seeing as Talia had proven able to resist demons, so it couldn't be the work of the Fade on an unwilling mind.

No one spoke a word, instead watching as the boy slept. His expressions underwent similar changes to what Talia had gone through, happiness, anger, surprise, fright. Cullen watched the young man, even as he himself wasn't the one in charge of his Harrowing. Templar Morag was the one standing above the young mage, sword at the ready. Cullen didn't like Morag that much, really. The man was straight as an arrow, and followed the rules to the letter. He also never deviated from them out of compassion, and would harm a child if it resisted returning to the tower. Had once, too.

The Harrowing dragged on, with no signs that anything would change. The young mage was still as if simply asleep, with the only difference being the weak, purple aura shimmering close to his body. Cullen became increasingly wary as nothing continued to happen, and he could see the rest of the room shared his worries. If a mage took too long in the Fade, it meant he had failed the Harrowing. _Maker, let the boy wake._

Cullen's eyes rested upon the young man's face, taking in his features. They were of a kind soul, likely a good friend to the young Talia. Not a brother, the features were too different. He had a strong jaw, and brown hair with a single braid down the side of his head. Cullen had noticed Talia had the same decoration of her hair. Was this maybe a sign of something? The mage's expression kept changing over the next hours, going from frightful to relieved, and back again. No demon had ever sought Cullen, but he believed he still recognized the signs of one being hunted, then believed safe, then hunted again. Demons, it appeared, were toying with the boy.

For what seemed like an eternity, Templar Morag looked at Cullen. Cullen looked back, and nodded. There was nothing more to do. They had been at it for more than seven hours now, and even with his legs protesting it, Cullen remained standing straight as Morag ended the Harrowing.

"It is done." Morag said, folding his hands in prayer for the mage's soul. Cullen stood as nailed to the floor, watching as First Enchanter Irving approached the corpse.

"Terrible… I was hoping that he showed the same resolve…" Irving muttered, bowing his head.

Cullen could feel the familiar sensation of his stomach churning with disgust and hatred towards the demons who so prayed on the weakest of the mages, and forced the templars to perform their duty.

"Someone should inform the girl that her companion was too weak." Morag stated matter-of-fact as he withdrew his sword from the mage's chest.

* * *

Talia was in a new room. Odd, she didn't remember having walked anywhere. The vaulted ceiling above her meant she was still in the tower, meaning the soldiers hadn't released her and Onmund yet. Damn, that meant she was probably going to have to find someone to ask for what the flying damn was going on. She still had no real clue what she, or any from their group had even done to be arrested. It was almost as if the soldiers had seen mages and deiced to jail them.

And what the damn was up with their ability to drain her magica? She knew enchantments on weapons could do that, but the soldiers had simply clapped their hands, not even drawn a blade aside from their leader. Arniel Gane would probably be rather interested in… why would she care what the old man was interested in, he wasn't here to help.

At least she wasn't naked this time.

With that reassurance in mind, Talia threw off the covers, and sat up in what turned out to be a bunk-bed, an empty one atop hers. _Great… I am in… where?_

There were plenty of people around, most of them younger than her. All of them wore the same girly dresses, even the boys. It was perhaps a good thing J'zargo wasn't here, or he would have ridiculed every single one of them. Thát, and the soldiers seemed to want to kill him for being a Khajit. She still didn't understand that part. _I mean, sure Khajit aren't _trusted_, but to kill them on sight?_

Hopefully she could find Onmund soon enough, and he would know what to do. Better to leave the planning to the smartest guy she knew, older people not included.

"Oh, you're awake?" A new voice said. Talia turned, noticing another young man, hardly more than a boy, sitting on the edge of his own bed, looking at her. His eyes shone with curiosity, and his face was friendly enough.

"Seems like it. Damn, then, that I'm still here." She rubbed her eyes for sleep before swinging her legs over the covers. There was no way she was leaving the bed before someone gave her something to eat. If she was a prisoner, they could damn well be bothered to bring her something to eat, _and drink_. Gods, she hadn't had a drop since that weird potion the old mage made her drink.

That was another thing too. What on Nirn had she been hauled through? It definitely wasn't a normal dream, if nothing else because everyone had seemed to know she would experience just what she did. Thát, and she was fully conscious and capable of reading in it. Normally, one couldn't read in a dream.

And the demon… what _was_ that even? It didn't even look like a Daedra, and it sure wasn't a human. It was something new, that much she knew. Was this were she was going to regret never to have paid much attention when her father hired the tutor from Hammerfell? Maybe there had been a mention of demons, and she just hadn't paid attention. Gods, this was worse than waking up drunk.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine… but you haven't seen Onmund, the guy I was with, around here, have you?"

"I don't know who that is, sorry. I've only seen you." The boy said, then seemed to remember something; "my name is Jorwan, by the way."

"Talia, a pleasure. Jorwan, why am I here?" She asked, looking around. Most of the other people in the room were engaged in idle chat, or maintaining their belongings. She _did_ spot a few girls braiding their hair at a set of mirrors, so maybe she wasn't going to get _that_ bored.

"What do you mean?" Jorwan asked, looking a bit confused. The thought struck Talia that she had no idea why _he_ was there either. If this was a mage-prison, was he a murderer or something? But, he looked far too young for that. Maybe a thief?

"I mean, I don't _think_ I've broken any laws, but my friends and I were still arrested by those soldiers… is it illegal for Khajit or Dunmers to be mages around here?" It was clear from the confusion painted across Jorwan's face that he had no clue what she was talking about.

"I'm sorry… illegal for what to be mages?"

"Khajit and Dunmers? The leader seemed to want to kill J'zargo and Brelyna, the Khajit and Dark Elf in our group, simply because they were mages. He even called them "abominations", of all things." Talia mused in slight annoyance, using her fingers to ridicule the leader's term for her friends. J'zargo could be annoying like kidney stone, but he wasn't an abomination, and how _anyone_ could think Brelyna and abomination in the same line was out of Talia's reach of understanding.

"Khajit and… a "dark" elf?" Talia had half a mind to shut the boy's gaping, confused mouth, but refrained with a bit of willpower. It was an annoying trend that no one seemed to know what a Dunmer was. Next thing, they'd ask what the damn a _Bosmer_ was, or compare an Elder Scroll to a cookbook. _Now that I think of it… I don't actually know _what_ one of those old scrolls even contain…_

"Have you been living under a rock?" She asked, giving the guy a flat, if mildly confused look. Maybe he had never been out of his village or town, and only knew that and this prison. Figures, they'd pair her with an illiterate.

A very polite cough behind Talia drew her attention, turning her to face one of those blasted soldiers. At least this one didn't wear a damn bucket on his head, so she could break his nose if he tried draining her. It really was a nausea-inducing way of attacking her. And it was still damn cheating.

"What?" She didn't even care that her tone was anything but polite. She didn't like the soldiers, or guards, around here. They attacked people for their race alone. Bigots.

"Talia, I am Templar Cullen. May I have a word?" Okay, so maybe not total asshats all of them. This one at least asked for permission to intrude, which was marginally better than people clasping her in irons for resisting innocent arrest, if that was even a term.

"Is this the formal apology for locking us up? Because if it is, you're not off to a great start." Her tone seemed to take the man aback. Good, that meant he at least wasn't an impassive arse. The rest of the soldiers seemed to be.

"I… why would there be… Talia, I need to talk to you about your friend." Cullen said. The concern and sympathy in his voice unnerved Talia, causing her to fidget with her braids. _Dammit hands, stop messing with my hair._ _Okay, calm down._

"Onmund? Don't tell me he escaped without me." While this was more something she would suspect J'zargo of being willing to do, even Onmund wasn't above suspicion. After all, she would do the same thing herself. She'd come back for him, of course, but still escape alone if she had to.

"He underwent the Harrowing just after you. While I carried you down here, actually…" Talia blushed at that. It meant this man had likely touched her butt. And maybe even more. Men could only be trusted to think with the small head around unconscious women, her mother had always said.

"Again with the bloody- Okay, you're here now, what _is_ the Harrowing?" She demanded, not giving any particular care that Jorwan was just behind her. Cullen did, though, and sighed;

"Apprentice Jorwan? Would you mind leaving us?" The young mage hurried off without as much as a word. Cullen turned back to Talia; "The Harrowing… what did you see during it?"

"I was dreaming. I met a guy named Ankus. He said he was a student here too, but it turned out he was a demon in disguise. Looked like a purple dragon priest, I think. I've only seen them as pictures though. Then he wanted to leave the dream, but I still don't get how he was going to do that, considering it was _my_ dream." Talia explained, leaning back against the bed. Cullen closed his eyes and drew what almost seemed like a breath of relief, or maybe sadness, it was hard to tell.

"The Harrowing… Irving didn't explain it properly, for that I am sorry. In the Harrowing, shortly put, they expose young apprentices to demons in the Fade, in order to test your resolve against temptation. If the demon wins, you die." Talia's first instinct was to call the guy on his bluff, or his Horkershit, depending if he even _knew_ what a Horker was. Her second instinct was to ask if he had something damaged in his head. No one would be dumb enough to do something like that. It would be like inviting a Daedra into the material world.

The Oblivion Crisis should be proof enough that it was a dumb idea.

"You're serious?" Her third instinct was that Cullen was telling the truth. He nodded, still with the underlying sadness, like his dog had died; "Who on _Nirn_ came up with that? You mean you actually sparred me with a demon, on _purpose_?" Now her voice was starting to build with outrage. Arch-Mage Aren would flip his beard if he heard about people _intentionally_ endangering his students.

The mental image was oddly entertaining.

"It is the best solution. Better to have passed, than to refuse and be made tranquil." Cullen insisted. There was still the undertone to his voice. If Talia hadn't been so close to pissing herself in anger, she might have heard the sympathetic tones, and sensed something was horribly wrong.

"…You people are insane, and I'm getting out of here. Where's Onmund, we're leaving!" She snapped, standing from the bed and pushing Cullen back. No way she was staying in this mess of a dungeon or tower or whatever the damn they called it. Even Riften and Markarth's prisons had better reputations than pitting people with demons.

"That… was what I came here to tell you." Cullen wasn't even mad about her outburst; "Onmund didn't manage to overcome the demon in his trial."

Talia's world suddenly went _very_ cold.

Her heart stopped in her chest at the implications of what Cullen was saying, but her mind refused to process what he could mean. Onmund was the best student at the College, there was no way he could fail a test, and even if he did, couldn't they just let him try again? Cullen had been joking when he said people could die in the Harrowing, he _had_ to have been joking.

She tried speaking, but her mouth just moved on its own, opening and closing without a word leaving her throat.

"We… were forced to put him down. I am sorry." Talia froze, in the middle of turning to leave. Her eyes widened, panic spreading through her in mere moments as her heart stopped beating. The world seemed to blur and swim around her. He was lying. He had to.

"Wha…" she managed to utter before collapsing on the tiled floor, tears streaming from unconscious eyes.

* * *

"Open the doors." Knight-Commander Greagoir ordered. His men set to, and the massive, enchanted doors swung open with the sound of long overdue use. Irving was beside him, welcoming their visitor to the tower. It was, after all, not everyday one was visited by a Grey Warden.

"Welcome to Kinloch Hold, Warden-Commander Duncan." Irving greeted with a bit less informality than his templar counterpart. Both had an inkling as to why Duncan was there, but silently agreed to let the famous Warden initiate the conversation.

"Thank you, First Enchanter, Knight-Commander. It has been some time since my last visit." Duncan agreed, offering both a warm, friendly smile. Irving found the man easy to get along with, but hoped Duncan wouldn't be offended if and when he heard the recent news about what had transpired in the Harrowing Chamber.

"Indeed it has. Tell me, do you know anything about a certain dagger that went missing from my predecessor's office?" Irving asked with a small smirk. He knew perfectly well Duncan had stolen it, all those years back when the then-young Warden was travelling with Maric and Fiona. He also knew the dagger had most likely saved Duncan's life later on. It was difficult to blame the man, especially seeing how First enchanter Remille had turned traitor shortly after.

"It is a grand world, First Enchanter. There are too many daggers for me to count." Duncan offered with a completely professional tone, though the glint in his eyes remained. Maker, the man really was something else.

"I suppose it is." Irving agreed as they entered the tower, leaving the Knight-Commander by the doors.

"You have heard the news, I presume?" Duncan's voice was now completely professional, and Irving realized the man was entering upon his reason for visiting. He nodded;

"King Cailan is amassing the army near Ostagar. Yes, we have heard. You are here for mages to join the king's army, I suppose." He didn't add that those very mages would likely meet their deaths since none had been trained to turn their magic against dangerous foes. It was highly possible a few knew more than they were supposed to, but he still didn't like the idea.

"If you can spare them. Cailan has already won several battles against the Darkspawn, but without more mages, I fear for what is to come."

"I know. I only fear they will not return, for one reason or the other." One reason being they came down with a case of dead. Irving knew that was the most likely outcome. The other being they simply fled, free of Chantry and templar oversight.

"Is enchanter Wynne still able to join? I seem to remember her being a very capable healer."

"She is, she is. I think she's currently here on this level, actually." She was, he knew. Young Talia had taken the news worse than Irving had thought, and simply collapsed on the floor a few hours ago. Wynne was examining her for anything out of the ordinary.

"Might we meet with her, or is she otherwise occupied?" Duncan's voice implied he already knew the answer. Irving resisted a frown at that. It was difficult understanding what went on in the minds of those who had fought the Blights for hundreds of years.

"For now, I believe she is occupied with an unconscious apprentice." Irving said, the added at Duncan's questioning look; "Nothing serious, medicinally at least. The apprentice just… her friend underwent the Harrowing, but it did not go as hoped."

"I see." Was all Duncan said as they passed the door to the Dormitory of the apprentices. Irving hoped Duncan would not notice, but the Warden glanced inside the room. Wynne was kneeling next to a sobbing young woman, offering her best consolations; "Thát, is the apprentice, I suppose."

"It is. We believe she and her companions, of which only she and her young friend were brought back, fled their tower. Though, we do not know which." Irving admitted, wanting to get Duncan moving. Until Talia was emotionally stable, he didn't want to expose Duncan to the less friendly faces in the tower.

"She refused to tell?" Duncan asked, getting the hint to move along. Irving considered his answer for a few moment as they walked the library, monitoring the apprentices and other mages spending their time with the books.

"In a sense. She kept insisting to belong to a "College of Winterhold", though there is no record of one such place. Curiously, she doesn't seem to understand why the templars brought them in."

"Where were they captured?" Irving was slightly annoyed that Duncan wouldn't drop the issue, but decided it was his own fault for not dismissing it at the start.

"In the outskirts of the Korari Wilds. They were hunting the Witches of the Wild, when they came across young Talia's group. Two, from Morag's account, were already abominations when they caught up."

"They were slain?"

"No…" Irving said, both regret and a tiny amount of relief in his voice. From Talia's own, if brief, accounts, those two had not been abominations at all, but rather… something else; "They escaped into the Wilds. With two unconscious mages, Morag was forced to return to the tower first."

* * *

This land truly was worse than the Oblivion. Onmund… was dead.

He was dead, because the insane people running this prison had seen fit to murder him in a fit when he hadn't passed their test. What on Nirn was wrong with them? Who the Daedra did they even think they were, to slaughter students of the College in this way?

And now they had set some old grandmother of a mage on her. Talia was _not_ in the mood nor mindset to be cuddled by a person from the very group that had murdered Onmund. Tears stinging her eyes, she picked up voices from outside the small area of her surroundings, and recognized the voice of the oldest mage, the one who was named Irving. _He_ had been giving the orders all the time. _He_ was behind Onmund's death.

And now he was mentioning her like some mental case, a thing to be ignored out of refusing to accept that he had made a mistake in not believing her about Winterhold. If, no _when_ she got back home, both the College and her father would be told of this… this _violation_.

She brushed the older woman aside, getting to her feet.

"And where do you think you are going, young lady?" The old woman asked in a stern, yet mildly admonishing tone. Talia nearly winced at the tone - so much like her old nan when she had used to misbehave - and looked at the woman.

"My friend is dead because of a trial that Irving forced him through." She spat out through clenched teeth. The mere mention of the fact still made her breathing difficult. The old woman's eyes grew soft, and saddened;

"The Harrowing, yes. Most survive it, but there are those who are too susceptible to demons." Talia nearly tripped in her steps from the way the old woman_ defended_ the damn ritual. She glared at the woman;

"Then the devisers are _murderous_, and _cruel_ people for forcing people through it in the first place."

"Young lady, I fully understand that you are feeling grief and sorrow for a dead friend, but you know as well as what risks there are with an unharrowed mage. You should realize your luck that you were even given the chance to pass it, considering you fled your own tower." The old mage admonished her. Talia wanted to cry out what she had repeated to just about every soul who would and wouldn't listen, that they _hadn't fled any gods-be-damned tower!_ She clenched her fists and glared right at the old mage, who hadn't even introduced herself, and felt a burning resentment for everything that existed in the world.

Onmund was dead. J

'zargo and Brelyna were lost in the wilds, if not dead too...

And she was trapped here, in a prison tower that everyone insisted she deserved to be in, and should even be _thankful _for. Stendarr's mercy, this was a place she wasn't even allowed to glare at the men in armor before they _dissolved_ her familiar. How could they even do that? The soldier, or _templar_ as they called themselves, hadn't even attacked Two-Sock, only touched it. There had been no conjuration-magic at work aside from her own, so how were they doing those things? She hated them, for arresting her, for routing her friends, and for killing Onmund.

"I _did_ _not_ flee. any. damn. tower." She growled and forced each word out; "The _College_ sent us to Cyrodiil to contact the _Synod_, but we ended up _here_, in this land or region or whatever by Mara's _tits_ you call this place." She gestured roughly at everything around them, even as the old woman seemed to blanch at her somewhat heretical use of Mara's name.

"There is no tower to my knowledge, or even place, called by that name. If you can't offer a straight answer, I suggest you stop taking out your anger on the organization doing its best to safeguard and train us mages." She started, pointing a finger at Talia. Her expression softened somewhat; "I understand why you want to speak with Irving, especially given what happened to your friend." Talia snorted at that.

"I seriously doubt you would be able to understand, otherwise you wouldn't be defending it." She forced out under her breath, glaring daggers at a passing templar. If looks could kill, the man would be a charred corpse by the time the old mage spoke again.

"Regardless of my understanding, if you promise to do your best at behaving, I can let you meet with Irving." She did pick up on thát, though, and focused her attention back on the old woman again.

"Why would you do that?" She demanded. Anger was still seeping through her every thought and word. Anger at Irving. Anger, and grief that Onmund was no longer there to help her. Not that she ever _needed_ help, but… it had been a good thing to have, a good friend.

"I believe you need to understand why what went wrong, went wrong. If confronting Irving with it will help you come to terms, it is the better solution than allowing you to wallow in rage."

"Oh believe me, I _never_ wallow…" Talia muttered under her breath, so low she wasn't sure if it was even picked up.

* * *

"We are already sending many to Ostagar. Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to the war effort-" Greagoir argued against Duncan's request for more mages. Irving found the argument amusing in a small way;

"Your own? Hmm. Since when have you felt such kinship with mages, Greagoir. Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually _use_ their Maker-given powers?" He inquired, chuckling under his breath. Greagoir didn't seem to find the misstep quite as funny, though.

"How _dare_ you suggest-" The Knight-Commander started with a pointed finger, until Duncan, of all people, interrupted him.

"Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you."

* * *

Talia stopped in the doorway, takin in the scene before her. She recognized the first two men in the room, _Irving_, and the armored man who seemed to be in command of the templars. There was a third man too, though. His armor reminded her more of some of the bandits she sometimes saw being hauled before the Jarl in Winterhold, but it seemed a lot more official than that. Shoulder-pauldrons and a breastplate of steel seemed to be among the few pieces of actual armor the man wore, the rest being something close to the dress she herself was still forced to wear until she found her own clothes again.

Without hesitating, she made her way towards Irving.

"_Irving_" She breathed. Unable to decide what insult to go with, she went with his name.

"Ah, our new sister in the Circle… How are you feeling, child?" He responded, apparently _not_ catching her mood from her tone. Before she could give him an honest-to-Divines answer though, the new, bearded man stepped forward.

"This is…" He started, looking at Talia with eyes much different than Irving's own. They were far more curious and evaluating than Irving's interested and teacher-like gaze. Irving nodded;

"Yes, this is she."

"I am _Talia Aulus Geotien_, not a _she_." She growled, glaring daggers at Irving. If it wasn't for the armored men in the room, and she wasn't sure if the other, new man was of the same kind, she would have frozen Irving _solid_ for disregarding her like that.

"Well, Irving." The most heavily armored man said; "You are obviously busy. We'll discuss this later." He then left the room, passing close enough to Talia that she could feel annoyance radiating from him in waves.

"Of course…" Irving said to the man, then turned to regard Talia once more; "Where was I… Oh yes, this is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens." Talia gave Duncan a once-over, then looked back at Irving.

"I don't care if he was the Leader of the Greybeards; I am here because of you. Onmund, my friend and an innocent young mage, was murdered in your _Harrowing_, and I seem to be the only one capable of seeing the wrongness in that!" She exclaimed, taking a step towards Irving.

"Ah, yes… that. I regret that he didn't make it through, I truly do, child, but in the end the demons won him over." Irving said, truly sounding like he meant it. Talia didn't give a flying mudcrab for his sincerity.

"The Daedra or demons or whatever you choose to call them, wouldn't have had the chance if it wasn't for your twisted trial!" Talia yelled, jabbing an accusing finger at Irving, while Duncan merely looked mildly confused at her words, or maybe the accusation in them. She honestly didn't care which it was.

"You should know, even if you don't accept it, that the Harrowing is a necessary evil, child." Irving admonished. Gods, he was so self-righteous, they _all_ were, that it made her want to kick a puppy. Or Irving, whichever one was most doable; "I do, however, understand your grief. I went through the same thing myself, when I was not even your age."

"Then why, by all the Gods, are you keeping the same evil ritual going?!" If Irving wasn't lying, then Talia simply didn't see how he could live with himself as long as the ritual was being carried out.

"Because it is necessary." His tone was suddenly a lot sterner, but softened again; "If a mage isn't harrowed, there is no knowing whether or not demons will be able to take possession over him. This way, the possession can be ended on the spot if the mage isn't strong enough to resist."

"You still _caused his death_." Talia stated coldly; "I am leaving this accursed tower now, so hand over my belongings. And I want Onmund's body as well."

Both men's eyebrows shot up in surprise and confusion. She suspected it was because she wanted a dead body; "Onmund deserves to be buried back in Skyrim, not here in… you call this Ferelden. This is not his home, however cold it may be."

"Excuse me for interrupting, First Enchanter…" Duncan said, turning to regard Talia; "But, just _who_ are you?" Finally, someone actually took a note of her words instead of just dismissing her as a runaway mage, because apparently mages running away was punishable with death-by-sick-trial. She glared at Irving a final time before looking at Duncan with a hard, examining gaze.

"I am Talia Aulus Geotien, daughter of _Omluard_ Aulus Geotien, second-heir to the Aulus-estate of Evermor. I am a student of the College of Winterhold, and my friend was Onmund Broksson, also a student of the College, and my friend. I am a prisoner of this tower, and my friend was killed by the people here because he didn't pass their trial." She declared and glared back at Irving at the last part. He would be reminded of his part in the murder of Onmund, at every chance she got. The mage in question, as well as Duncan, glanced at each other before looking back at her.

"Child, there is no such place in Thedas carrying any of the names you just mentioned." Irving said.

"My condolences to your loss, but I must admit I have not heard these names or places mentioned before either. You are certain you aren't just imagining things out of grief?" Talia snarled at the doubt in their voices, and what _by the Twelve_ was "_Thedas"_, now all of a sudden? She knew damn well no place in Tamriel went with that name. Geography might never have been her interest, but by Julianos, she wasn't _dumb_!

"I am leaving this tower, with or without your consent." She stated, then spun on her heels towards the exit. Irving gave a deep sigh behind her;

"Child, you know mages aren't allowed to leave the tower without permission from the Knight-Commander." He said, regret in his voice. But it wasn't regret that she wasn't allowed to leave. It seemed to be regret that she didn't realize her own wrongs. Blasted man, she would force her way out then.

"I am a mage, trained at the _College._" She stated. In most cases, that sentence alone would discourage people from picking a fight.

"The templars will not allow you to pass."

"Let them stop me if they can. Remaining means my death, so rather face it on my feet than slaughtered in my sleep!" She yelled, snapping about to glare at Irving once more. The man had a saddened look in his eyes, but she didn't give a Horker's lump of fat for his sadness.

"Wait, let us not do anything rash." Duncan jumped in. She glared at him now, waiting for another round of "adult" minds telling her what to do. She had left High Rock for just that same reason, and those had been her parents. Foreigners would not dictate her actions, not after what they had bereft her.

"You won't stop me. You can lock me up, I will break out. You can cut off my feet, I will drag myself out. You can cut off my hands, I will kick my way out." Anything less, and J'zargo would probably laugh when she made it to the afterlife. Both men seemed taken aback at her words, Irving more than Duncan.

"In all my years…" he muttered.

"There is no need for more to die, young Talia. I think I may offer… a better solution." Duncan offered, stepping closer to her. She stepped back the same distance.

"Unless it is a map and a horse, I don't think you do."

"I came here looking for mages to join the King's army, yes, but I was also looking for promising recruits." Duncan explained. Irving turned to focus his full attention on the Warden, Talia seemingly briefly forgotten.

"That is the first I hear of this, Duncan." He said. Duncan nodded;

"It was my secondary goal here, and not deemed as important as gaining additional support from the Circle. However, the Grey Wardens _do_ need more recruits, and Talia wants to leave the tower." He explained.

"From one prison to the other? And what about Onmund's body? I will not be leaving it here to fester in a dungeon for mages." Talia declared. Irving sighed again;

"I was hoping to inform you of this at a better time, child, but we have already cremated his body." Talia turned to Irving very slowly, tears of outrage stinging her eyes. They had burned him here, without even letting her know? He would find Sovngarde, but what about her? She hadn't been given a chance to even say farewell, and now he was gone.

"Your name was Duncan?" She asked with a calm that surprised even her, in the small part of her mind that was still rational despite the anger; "I am ready to leave this place. If it burns, if Alduin himself razes it to the ground, I will stand and I won't shed a tear. And lastly; give me my clothes back, now please."

"Is this acceptable to you, First Enchanter?" Duncan asked, looking more confused than anything else. Irving massaged his temples, looking at Talia with saddened eyes;

"Yes, yes I suppose it is. I am sad, Talia, that you refused to find peace here. May you at least survive outside the tower. Ferelden is dangerous in these dark times." Irving said, opening a chest at the wall. He pulled out Talia's robes, her _own_ robes from the College, and handed them to her.

She yanked the robes from him like he was dirtying them with his mere touch. The man was the leader of a murderous institution, she would not have his presence lingering on her belongings. Not caring the least what the men thought of her, she pulled the Circle-given robes off on the spot. Duncan and Irving both stopped breathing for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as Talia put on her own clothes.

Patting her satchel, she gave Irving one final glare before looking at Duncan;

"Are we going?"

"I suppose invoking the right of Conscription is rather meaningless at this point." The man pondered; "yes, we are. I have already been informed that the Circle is unable to afford more mages for the war than have already been promised. I bid you a continued good day, Fist Enchanter Irving."

"Likewise, Warden-Commander Duncan." Irving replied; "The same to you, Talia Aulus of Winterfell."

"Winter_hold_." She muttered under her breath, but refused to even acknowledge the man's words, instead walking out the door before Duncan could even say a word.

As they approached the doors on the first level, Duncan's constant glancing at her, became too much for Talia to bear;

"What?"

"I'm sorry?" He said, seemingly unaware of her annoyance. On one hand, she was glad she could leave the tower-dungeon, leave it all behind.

On the other, she was apparently entering into a new prison, this one in the form of an order or an army called the Grey Wardens. She had no idea if they possessed the same cheating ability as the templars, and thus if she could fight her way out.

"You're constantly looking at me." She muttered as the templars opened the door.

"I meant no offense, I can assure you."

"Then what is the looking for?" She bit out as they exited the tower, a few glowering templars looking at her back as she strode through the main entrance-hall, offering glares in return to every soul in the room.

"You are different than most mages I have met so far." Duncan admitted as Greagoir gave them leave, opening the final set of doors. The outside was… not what she expected. Talia had expected somewhere like a dark forest or a mountain-range for the place of the prison. Instead she came out into an enormous lake, connected to the other side by a broken bridge of stone. Despite being broken, she could still see the artisanship that had gone into its making.

"You are nowhere _close_ with that statement, Duncan." While she voiced his name with anything but respect, it wasn't with the same venom or hostility as she used with Irving's name.

"Well, we do have a long way to walk from here. I suppose you could enlighten me on the way?"

"…Maybe." She offered, not mentioning that she would steal a horse and escape at the first given chance. Wasn't worth it just to make him wary. Whatever thoughts she might have had on using the bridge were banished when Duncan led them down a narrow path instead. They ended up at a small, make-shift dock with a young templar waiting to take them across. Talia glared at him, but offered nothing else as Duncan managed their transit, surprisingly by bribing the man with cookies, of all things.

Much greater her astonishment, when the templar accepted the bribery with an overjoyed expression and allowed them transport. _If I ever get back to Winterhold… I'm not sure what, just…_

She relinquished further thoughts on home, as she instead settled down in the boat, Duncan taking the seat across from her. The templar got in as the last one, and started rowing. The trip itself was quiet, the only sound breaking the silence were the oars in the water. Talia closed her eyes, considering taking out her book on the finer arts of summoning, but decided the time wasn't for it. She also didn't want the templar on the boat to get a glimpse of College spellbooks. So instead she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of birds chirping as they neared shore, and the paddling of oars in the water.

The small clatter of wood on wood startled her out of the almost relaxing sensation it was to simply shut her eyes. The templar was out first, offering each a hand up. She pointedly didn't accept it.

"We're going to follow the Imperial Highway north, until we reach the Teyrnir of Highever," Duncan explained as they started up the hill, bypassing the small hamlet that had secured itself as something akin to a port-town by the lake.

"I take it you're not talking about the Empire of Tiber Septim?" Talia asked, expecting a confused no. She received one, too, when Duncan glanced at her with both curiosity and confusion; "I didn't think so…"

"This Empire of Tiber Septim, you talk about… I don't think I know about it." Duncan said with curiosity, but also a tone that wanted her to continue. Talia sighed, knowing she was in for a long walk, even if it seemed to be on paved road. She brought her hand up and snapped her fingers, bringing Two-Sock into being.

Duncan looked less than composed at the sudden appearance of the familiar. It lasted almost a full second.

"Seems to me you're not a mere apprentice." He offered, glancing at Two-Sock as it lolled its tongue and walked beside Talia without even having started doing so. It had simply appeared while already walking. Talia scratched it behind its ears, the wolf being the last companion she had left of the College. Her Flame Atronachs were nowhere near as familiar as Two-Sock, and thus not considered companions as much as merely conjured tools.

"Duncan, meet Two-Sock. Two-Sock, Duncan, commander of…" She trailed off. The lingering confusion on Duncan's face did a little to alleviate her anger. _He_ wasn't the one who had killed Onmund, after all.

"The Gray Wardens. I take it Two-Sock here is your companion on regular travels?" Duncan offered the familiar a polite nod before speaking to Talia.

"He is." Talia said, then added with stinging grief; "Now he's the only one I have left."

"I am sorry. I know my condolences will not bring back your friend, but… they are all I can offer." Talia nodded and wiped away the first small tear.

"You didn't kill him. I just… I just miss him so much, and I don't even know what happened to Brelyna and J'zargo." She found her voice was hoarse with grief, even as she knew her two other friends were likely dead as well. She knew both were strong, but… she just didn't know.

"We will gain an additional companion soon enough." Duncan offered, causing Talia to snap up to look at him; "In the Teyrnir of Highever, we're looking for some prospective recruits before we head for Ostagar."

"What… what is a Teyrnir?" Talia sniffed the last of her grief back behind the façade and looked at the Warden.

"It is… a bit like an Arling, only bigger." Duncan tried. Talia nodded. She knew what an Arling was, both High Rock and Skyrim had Jarls ruling parts of them. She had personal experience there. She breathed a sigh and allowed Two-Sock to run ahead, leaving her and Duncan in silence for a few minutes.

"Back at the tower, you mentioned something about conscripting me."

"Ah, yes. I did." Duncan said; "I suppose you would like an explanation for that?"

Talia nodded.

"The Grey Wardens are an independent and politically neutral organization on Thedas. We are above most laws, and in return, we do not involve ourselves in the rulings of each nation. We keep apart from the rest of the world's workings, except when we recruit or combat a Blight, such as now."

"Sounds a bit like the Greybeards, with the whole 'keep apart' thing." Talia huffed, kicking a pebble on the paved road. It was really more of a bridge built over land, than a road.

"Greybeards?" Duncan asked.

"Old monks or sages, I think. They live on the top of Tamriel's highest mountain, but that's really as far as my knowledge goes."

"Tamriel, is another word or place I don't know of." Duncan admitted, giving her a curious look; "Is it your home country?" Talia sighed, realizing she really should stop being surprised at this point.

"It's actually the continent. My home country is High Rock, but I lived in Skyrim, in Winterhold, for three years before we ended up here."

"And yet, I have never heard of these places. A continent by the name of Tamriel… that makes me curious, how can you speak our language if you come from so far away as an undiscovered continent?" He asked, genuinely curious and confused. The question made Talia miss a step.

She had not considered thát.

"I… I…Honestly I have no idea." She admitted awkwardly. Ahead of them, Two-Sock was pawing at a hole in the ground, but raised his head and sped on when the two humans came close. Talia often wondered how no one had ever written a book on how deeply alive familiars were. Most dismissed them as constructs and weak atronachs.

"It is something to ponder, I think." Duncan said; "another thing, while we're talking about your homeland."

"Yes?"

"You mentioned an empire more than once. What is it?" Duncan asked. Talia blew a sigh that lifted a few strands of her cobber-red hair from her head. She herself didn't even know _that_ much about the Empire of Tiber Septim, how was she supposed to explain it to a man who had probably never even heard the term 'dragon', much less 'Dragonborn'?

"Damn… I'm not really the best historian." She muttered, blew a new sigh and looked back up and over the side of the road, taking in the enormous landscapes; "Buuuuuut, I know it was founded by Tiber Septim, or Talos as the Nords call him. He was… I can't actually remember if he was Dragonborn or not, but he had the Thu'um, the dragonspeak that made him able to conquer the entire continent and found the empire. After that, things just… went the right way, I guess. When he died, Tal- Tiber Septim was uplifted as the Ninth Divine, but when the Aldmeri Dominion, or the "Thalmor" as well call them, invaded, they banned the worship of Talos, said it was heretical."

"Nine Divines?" Duncan asked, more confused and surprised than merely curious. Talia shrugged;

"I grew up in High Rock, so I was never really even introduced to Talos as a possible Divine. Onmund did, though. Still, I like to think Mara is watching over my family, even if Stendarr has yet to provide justice for Onmund's death." She explained. Duncan went silent for a whole minute, fingers going through his dark beard. Finally, he spoke again;

"I think… you should refrain from mentioning your faith here, Talia. Ferelden, as well as most of Thedas, believes there is but one God, the Maker."

"…Oh." Talia missed a step; "Then… was it a bad idea that I more or less shouted to _Irving_ that he by the Eight Divines should stop claiming Brelyna was an abomination?" She still spat out the name like it was rotten fruit.

Duncan sighed and rubbed his forehead. He almost seemed distressed. Sad really, Talia mused, he really did seem like a much more intelligent person than those mages at the tower who insisted on _murdering _people for falling asleep;

"I don't think the First Enchanter is going to read too much into it." He said, pointedly looking at her like a disappointed tutor; "Still, yes; it might be for the best that you don't mention what gods you worship. There could be… consequences, if the Chantry finds out a mage is going around with a different viewpoint on faith."

"Fine." Talia blew hair from her face, rolling her eyes at the bigotry of this "Chantry" as they were called. They sounded a lot like just another bunch of Thalmor, except they didn't follow _any_ of the Divines; "Then what is so great about this "Maker" of yours? What is he god of?" Duncan seemed briefly taken aback at the question, though he regained his posture quickly enough that it could have just been a trick of her eyes.

"Well… everything, actually."

"Really? _One_ Div- one God for everything there is?" She stared at Duncan with wide eyes, even as Two-Sock came running back around her, doing a full round before sprinting off again; "Sounds… stressful."

"Stressful? I… suppose it would be for a human, but…the Maker is… difficult to explain. How would you explain _your_ gods?" Duncan asked after a minute's silent thought. Talia bit her lower lip with a single tooth, looking at the skies while thinking. The skies were grey, like they were ready to unleash a storm that never came.

"Well… The main Divine is Akatosh. He's the Dragon God of time and the king of the Divines, only, not "king" as you would understand it, all with subjects and cities. More like the Chief of the Gods, I think. Then, there's Arkay. He is the Divine of Rebirth and Death. Most cities have shrines to him in their burial places. I know Windhelm has one in its Hall of the Dead, although it's because… because Onmund told me." She heaved a breath, trying to clear her mind of the returning grief.

"You still mourn him." Duncan said, not even asking. Talia nodded, blinking away the tears;

"I… yes. But, Arkay will make sure he gets to Sovngarde."

"Of course."

"Then, there is… Dibella, of course. She is the Goddess of Beauty and Love. I've never been to Markarth, but her main temple in Skyrim is supposed to be there. The priestesses are supposed to be… rather appreciating. I think. And, then there is Julianos, the God of Wisdom and Logic. Kynareth, she is the Goddess of nature. Pilgrims go to some place east of High Hrothgar to visit her shrine, or really it is more of a coven, with a large, spiritual tree in the center. Shame I never went there."

"Pilgrims visit a tree instead of Kynareth's chapel?" Duncan asked, as thunder rolled across the lands, bringing promises, or threats, of rain with it.

"Oh, they do. Whiterun's temple is dedicated to Kynareth, and they have a large tree in her honor in the middle of the city too." Talia explained. Yet another part of Skyrim she hadn't gotten to see as much as she'd have liked; "Sheor is not as much worshipped as he is revered out of, say fear. He is the God of strife, and most view him more as the demonized version of Shor. Then, there is the one most important to my people, well aside from Akatosh of course."

"Yes?" Duncan mused, clearly intrigued by her tale. Talia tried to ignore the feeling that rain was going to drop soon. It would be less than pleasant having to walk in soaked clothes.

"Magnus. He is the God of Magic, and one of the original spirits. It is… hard to explain, but in the Dawn Era he was one of the et'Ada's, original spirits, who created Mundus. Lorkhan, one of the other et'Ada's tricked Magnus and the et'Ada's into sacrificing a lot of their power to create Mundus, and then returned to Aetherius when Mundus was formed. The hole he ripped in the Oblivion is the sun, and what remains of him, all around us, is what we call magic, more or less." Talia said, then felt a drop of water splash on the hood of her robes. More soon followed in more and more rapid succession; "Oh great…"

"Seems like we'll be walking wet for the next few miles. There is a small village not too far ahead, we can find shelter in the inn, should the rain continue." Duncan offered. Talia blew a bundle of already soaked hair from her face, only to have it smack back again.

"Just what I needed." She muttered. If J'zargo or Brelyna had been there, one of them could probably come up with some sort of spell to protect against the rain. Damn the fate that they were not; "There is Mara, after Magnus. She is the goddess of Love and motherhood. When people get married, they tend to do it in her temples. My parents were too, in Evermor. It's one of High Rock's larger cities."

"Is this Mara the wife of Akatosh?" Duncan asked, seemingly unbothered by the now pouring rain. Talia gave him an odd look, mostly out of surprise;

"Well… actually, yes. Some Pantheons see her as Lorkhan's wife, but the Imperial and Breton Pantheon portrays her as married to Akatosh. How did you know that?"

"There are more pantheons?" Duncan asked, not answering her question. Damn the man, but fair enough;

"There are." She admitted, lighting her palms on fire to ward against the cold; "There is the Imperial, of course. Then there is the Nordic, the Altmeri, the Bosmeri, the Dunmeri pantheon, the latter of which was Brelyna's pantheon. There is the Redguard Pantheon, the Khajit Pantheon and the Bretony pantheon, which is the one I am explaining."

Duncan looked mildly aghast, though she wasn't able to tell if it was the rain, the amount of pantheons or the fact that she was retelling her own, not the Imperial pantheon. Whatever he was aghast about, she didn't care;

"Phynaster is the hero-god of the Summerset Isles, and fills more or less the role Talos does in the Nordic pantheon. I don't really know much about him though. Stendarr is the Divine my parents revere the highest, after Akatosh and Magnus of course. He is the god of mercy and righteous rule. I once saw one of his Vigilants on the road. They hunt vampires and werewolves, but they don't really seem to wear more armor than me." Talia said, rubbing her flaming hands together. She considered offering to warm Duncan, but withdrew the thought almost instantly. It would be _weird_, asking if he wanted her to pat him.

"They sound much like the templars, or maybe the Inquisition, though the latter I know only from rumors and stories. Are they involved with mages too?" Duncan asked, offering Two-Sock a look of mild envy as the rain simply _passed_ through the ethereal wolf. It offered him a lolling wolf-grin in return.

"Most of them are mages to some extent. Have to be, when hunting things other people flee from." Talia resisted the urge to snap at the mere comparison of the Vigilants of Stendarr, and the murderous templars.

"Of course."

"Y'ffre is in our pantheon too, though the Bosmeri pantheon holds him in much higher regard. We call him the Storyteller, because when Mundus was created, all was chaos until he settled the laws of nature, like why things fall down when you toss them into the air." She kicked a loose stone for effect, watching as it sailed through the air before going over the side of the road and below.

"Why "Storyteller", though?" Duncan asked, lightning illuminating his face in a short second. Thunder followed a moment later, causing Two-Sock to bark at the sky. Talia found herself grinning at the familiar's exhibition of what it truly meant being a living wolf, or hound or what people would call him: Being afraid of thunder, or at least angry at it.

"He told mortals of the laws of nature, made order." She explained off-handedly. It was all old stuff, and a lot was hard to remember beyond the names and dedications of each Aedra.

"I see."

"Zenithar is the last of the pantheon's Aedra."

"Aedra?"

"Divines. He stands for wealth, labor, commerce and communication. He is basically the god of the trader." Talia explained, then added; "He has an anvil for his symbol. It doesn't get much more practical than that."

"I suppose not… but if your pantheon has twelve gods, why do you exclaim "by the _Eight" _instead of the twelve?" True, it was a bit stupid when even people of other religions noticed. Talia rubbed her hands together, spreading warmth while considering the best reply. In the end, honesty was the easiest choice;

"I've been living in Skyrim for three years…exclaiming 'by the _eight_' gets less attention than 'by the twelve'." She said, realizing how stupid it probably sounded even as she spoke. Damn honesty, and damn the fact that she wasn't going to change her expressions. Father might flip his table if he heard her dismiss all but eight of the Aedra, but father wasn't here. She could do whatever she damned well pleased.

Except bring Onmund back. There always was _something_ fate denied her. Friendship seemed to be one of those things here.

Hours passed in more or less silence, with Two-Sock being the only break from the constant pouring of rain. It wasn't until nightfall they reached the town of Strathmore.

* * *

**Anyone who can point out the camoes and references in the chapters?**

**I think I am going to enjoy this story, especially because I just found a list of the Chant of Light, meaning we can get some epic poems in. I was a bit surprised to find that almost each race has a different pantheon.**


	3. Castle Cousland

**Lo and behold, the Tale of Talia continues. **

**So far the response to this story has been mainly positive, so I'm going to pull not a single punch with Talia, and really show off what her character contains. NOT in a single chapter, of course. Still, I enjoy this chapter, and the next one, far more than I did the first chapter.**

**Man... finding verses for EACH chapter, will be a bother. Anyone know a site with verses from other organisations and groups than just the Chantry?**

**Anyway, let us press on, for Castle Cousland.**

* * *

_All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands,_

_From the lowest slaves_

_To the highest kings._

_Those who bring harm_

_Without provocation to the least of His children_

_Are hated and accursed by the Maker. _

___Transfigurations 3:5_

* * *

**Castle Cousland**

* * *

"I don't believe it!" Talia exclaimed, jumping from her place in the corner of the _Drunken Mage_ inn. Duncan snapped to look at her, but Talia hardly noticed as she instead started emptying her satchel on the small table before her.

"What, what is wrong?"

"My _book_. It's gone." She growled, pawing through the various trinkets making up the rest of her carried belongings. There was an empty soul gem in a string, the bundled lavenders, the few septims she had had the forethought of bringing, and straps of leather, if and when her boots would need repair.

But there was no book.

"I don't remember you mentioning a book before now." Duncan remarked, glancing at the emptied contents before looking back at her; "You are certain you had it with you from your College?"

"Of _course_ I am bloody certain I brought it. I brought it specifically to have something to read while we did business with the Synod and- Dammit! Urag will tear my legs off if I lose his books."

"Calm down, Talia. We will be in Highever in a few days, I am sure they won't mind you burrowing a single book." Duncan tried, running a hand through his dark beard. Talia bristled at him; "You should try to get some sleep."

"I know where it is." She muttered. A mutter that became a sneer; "I know who took it. _Irving_. Irving took my book while I was imprisoned." Duncan sighed;

"What type of book would this even be?" He asked, tiredness and exasperation in his voice. Talia snapped up to him, staring into his dark, brown eyes with her blue ones.

"It was a spellbook. I wanted to read up on summoning, make Two-Sock a bit more durable." The ethereal wolf was, wisely, not with them at the moment. Even if she was traveling with a Grey Warden, Duncan had explained, the wolf would attract too much attention. Talia slumped down in her seat; "Now we're going to have to walk the entire route back. Damn, can't we just… I dunno…"

She was tired. They had already been through Strathmore, and then some small village that wasn't even on Duncan's map, before ending up in the town of Strandtown. She had no idea if the name meant anything, but it was close enough to the ocean that she could hear the crashing waves from the main street when they arrived.

"Fine. I'm going to sleep. Wake me whenever we're leaving." She muttered, pushing out from the table as she gathered the last of her belongings. How people could travel with their entire home on their backs, she would never understand. The Khajiit caravans at least had horses and mules. She had a satchel not even big enough for an alchemy table.

"I will. Sleep well, Talia." The older man replied. Talia hummed in acknowledgement, dragging herself up the stairs to her room. Calling it a room, maybe that was an exaggeration on her part. There was a bed crammed into less room than would be filled by the staircase back in the College, as well as a communal privy at the end of the windy corridor making up the first and only extra story of the building.

Talia threw herself on the bed, staring at the tilted ceiling above her. She could hear the rain drumming on the other side of the wooden roof, glad that the ceiling was at least waterproof enough. The winds were still violent though, and shook the room on occasions.

"Gods… Akatosh, Dibella, Kynareth, Mara, Magnus, please…" She whispered, biting her lip; "I… I ask not for myself. I just… don't, please don't allow Brelyna and J'zargo to suffer the fate Onmund suffered."

There was no answer, only the rushing of winds shaking the building with such force that she idly wondered if the whole inn would collapse and be blown away.

"I know I… haven't always been the most devout. I haven't visited your shrines, I haven't done a pilgrimage yet, but… please, watch over my friends. I will… I will be a better person, if you will just allow me this." She whispered with closed eyes. Talia didn't really know_ what_ to do to be a better person than she was, since she could visit any of the temples anymore. There had to be something though.

She fell asleep before managing to figure it out.

* * *

The next day went as the former had, with seemingly endless walking. Two-Sock was the only one to seemingly enjoy the trip, running around with all the vigor and life of a real wolf. Talia spent the day watching her familiar as she and Duncan talked. He was a surprisingly intelligent man, for a warrior, and offered interesting perspectives.

Still, he seemed less than forthcoming whenever she tried getting him to talk about the Grey Wardens. Beyond telling the old legends, he almost seemed to brush off her questions by asking new ones to her. It was annoying, but it held the conversation.

"So your College has never had a problem with possessed mages?"

"Not that I know of, no. It is why I don't understand what happened to Onmund." Had Irving appeared at the moment she spoke, Talia might have ripped his head off in surprise and not regretted it afterwards.

"The Harrowing isn't known to me, I'm afraid." Duncan admitted, and they sunk into silence. Two-Sock's occasional howls and barks at anything interesting was the only break in the silence, and Talia was thankful for them. The silence was otherwise rather awkward.

A question _did_ pop up though, something she had thought about only briefly a few days prior.

"Duncan, you told Irving you were battling the Blight, or something." She eyed the man with curious eyes, looking for any tells that he was going to withhold something again. He did seem willing enough this time, though.

"The Blight… The Blight is, how should I put it? Have your homeland ever experienced a flood, something all-consuming that seemed to just go on and on?" He asked. Talia furrowed her brows at the oddity of his question.

"Not that I really know of. Sometimes there are heavy pours, but… not that I know of, no… Why?"

"The Blight is like a wave of darkness, crashing over the lands with the intent of swallowing everything alive. The armies of the Blight are made up of Darkspawn. Wretched creatures that were once human, elves or dwarves, but now serve-"

"Dwarves?" Talia snapped around, staring at Duncan with eyes the size of dinner plates. Duncan _had_ said dwarves, hadn't he? Like, in Dwemer? As in, he had hinted at there being Dwarves in these lands?

Suddenly, her skin seemed to tingle a bit more than normally.

"Yes, that is the type we have identified as Genlocks. They are small, but still dangerous." Duncan explained. Talia didn't care _what_ Genlocks were.

"No, I meant: you have _Dwarves_, here, alive? As in you have a civilization of still-around Dwemers?" The words almost fell from her mouth before she could speak them. The Dwemer, as well as their disappearance, had always been one of her most passionate subjects. A shame that Tolfdir had forbidden them from venturing into the opened Dwemer ruin near Winterhold.

"Yes, we have Dwarves. Orzammar and Kal-Sharok are the two Dwarven thaigs still inhabited… you speak as if you had dwarves but lost them?" He eyed her curiously, something she had ended up simply taking as his standard way of looking at her when she asked a new question.

"We _had_. No one really knows what happened, but the advanced and highly cultured and civilized dwarves of Tamriel simply disappeared from one day to the other. Everything they made still stands though, like their cities and automatons. They were _centuries_ ahead of the human and elven races, even found a way for steam to replace magic and running water in making things work."

"Impressive." Duncan hummed. From what his voice indicated, Talia guessed Duncan wasn't sure if he believed _that_ one. His fault, then. The Dwemer were awesome, and if they were here too… Maybe there _was_ something close to redeeming about this _Ferelden_ land.

As the hours passed and the pair had walked miles in silence, Duncan cleared his throat. Talia looked at the man, half expecting another round of him coughing, her asking 'what' and him repeating the 'what' until one just gave up and silence ensued.

"What?"

"I was thinking…" Duncan said, surprising Talia with actually having words behind the fake cough. Talia had half a mind noting that he shouldn't do that, it could be dangerous, but remained silent; "You have mentioned two other companions of yours."

"Brelyna and J'zargo?" She said, one brow raised in curiosity. Was this going to be another round of her explaining what a Khajiit and a Dunmer was? It lost its entertainment-value about the time when templars tried murdering them for being… well, them.

"Yes. Irving mentioned that you were determined neither was an abomination, despite one being a talking cat, and the other a dark-skinned elf." The man said, sounding like he wanted to avoid offending her. _Can't imagine he could get close to offending me like Irving or those bloody templars did._

"That's because they aren't abominations. J'zargo is a Khajiit. On Tamriel his kind lives in the southern lands of Elsweyr."

"They live elsewhere?" Duncan mused, confused from the way his bushy eyebrows raised, if she was to judge.

"Els_weyr_. It's mostly warm deserts and canyons, far as I know. There is _nothing_ even remotely abominable about them, though. In fact, the Khajiit are some of the kindest people you would meet on the road. They are still looked upon like thieves though, beats me why." Talia explained, then scrounged up her hair, more or less a complete mess, and added; "Okay, so some of them have to steal Figures, since no one will let them have jobs. They can't even get into the cities."

"A lot of distrust?" Duncan stated more than asked. Talia nodded; "Sounds familiar. Brelyna, then?"

"Brelyna is a Dunmer, or a Dark Elf, if you're going to be politically correct. I think she was born in Morrowind, actually. She's a really nice girl, mind you, so don't start bringing up her skin if we ever even find her again." Talia put as much emphasis on the last bit as she could, without being outright hostile.

"Her skin?" Duncan asked as they rounded a turn on the highway. Talia noticed what looked like a broken-down wagon further ahead, as well as some people standing around it.

"Dark Elves, like the name suggests, are dark skinned. A lot of people say it happened after the Red Mountain erupted and covered their entire country with ashes. She can pretty much stand naked in a bonfire though, so her people have that going for them, which is nice. I guess." Somehow, the image of young, sweet Brelyna standing naked in a fire, was both enticing and abhorring at the same time. Talia decided to shake it before saying anything else.

"And… why would she stand naked in a bonfire?" Duncan asked a bit confused. Talia chewed on the inside of her cheek. Why had she used _naked_ in that sentence? Blast, she had stepped a foot in her mouth there, hadn't she?

"Well… Dunmer have a high resistance to heat, fire included. Dunno if it's magical, they just do. Like, Nords have a much higher resistance to cold. Can't catch a bloody cold, believe it or not. I'm just a Breton, so that's always something." She added with a small, confident smirk, even as the people up ahead, armed too, started noticing them.

"Is there something special to Bretons too, then?" Duncan asked. By the new tone to his voice though, Talia guessed he had noticed the weapons too. Awesome.

"Weeeeeeeell…" She mused, hands behind her neck to look as harmless as possible. Better to avoid a fight, she guessed; "We're just the most badass and awesome human race in the field of magic." She patted Two-Sock behind the ears as the familiar had stopped before the other humans, posture somewhere between 'on guard' and 'wanna play?'.

Before Duncan could comment on her claim, which was entirely true, one of the men stepped towards them with an easygoing smile on his lips. So, friendly then?

"Hold there, friends." He said, raising a hand for emphasis; "There's a highway refugee-toll in effect, to support the war effort, of course." Talia raised an eyebrow, looking to Duncan for him to get them through. Had to, too. She didn't have any money those men would accept

"I don't remember there being a toll here, and you, gentlemen, do not strike me as the official type to man such a toll." Oh, so… highwaymen then? It was definitely an improvement in manners over those from Skyrim who would just jump out, wave a knife and demand a powerful mage to deliver her belongings.

Who ever said one couldn't train destruction magic on the road?

"Ehm… they don't look like refugees to me." One of the other men said. From the sound of his voice, she would place him somewhere on level with a mudcrab in intelligence. Still, his perception was markedly better than his leader's, it would seem.

"Daddy, are these robbers?" Talia asked, tucking Duncan's clothes with the most innocent expression she could muster without cracking a dung-eating grin. Duncan shot her a look that was somewhere between amused, surprised and confused… but he nodded, if only slightly.

"Now now, there is no need to use such words. We're merely businessmen, taking advantage of travelers with a need to ease their burdens a bit. You could say we're safe keepers, actually." The leader explained. Duncan repressed a groan, though Talia could still see it in the way his eyes rolled. Funny, who'd have known the old fart had a sense of humor.

"Yep, and if you don't want to trade, we gets to hit you on the head." The man with mudcrab intellect stated, patting a warhammer on his back for effect.

"You don't even know who I am, do you?" Duncan asked with a very level and polite voice. He sounded a little like Mirabelle when she was in one of her fits over J'zargo's less mature experiments. To be fair though, Ancano _did_ look like a cat-tail would look just nicely on him… Too bad it ended up on the wrong side of his hips. It did provide some laughs though.

"You look a bit like a warrior, and with the dress I'd hazard a guess you're affiliated with the Chantry somehow. Don't worry, we do say prayers each night." The leader said, obviously confident Duncan was the real threat. Talia hadn't seen Duncan in a fight, so it was entirely possible he was a formidable fighter. Or, he could be a skilled tactician who couldn't beat a child in a fist-fight.

Still, even if he was a skilled warrior, Talia felt the need to remind people that _she_ was the biggest threat. All her emotions: grief, anger and anxiousness for her friends, had become a need to do something _physical_, something that would give her an outlet. If scaring the piss from the highwaymen would do it, then sure, why not? And the leader_ had_ said they said their prayers…

"Good. Saves you saying them now." She said, stepping forward next to Two-Sock. Her demeanor was changed completely from the façade as a naïve youngster. She knew she looked a year or two younger than she was, so sometime people mistook her for a child. Morons. Now, she was ready to scare. Both hands were ablaze, and the familiar next to her was growling with unnatural sounds.

"A mage? What do you know, the man brought one of those apprentices with him." The leader said. Talia sneered, annoyed that the mere display of magic hadn't scared the pants off the man. She glanced at Two-Sock. Damn her inability to control summons better. _Sorry buddy. You'll need to go for a while._

She snapped her fingers with a dark, purple glow, and Two-Sock vanished in a flickering sparkle. The reason for his disappearance was made clear when the man at the back of the group caught fire. His screams caught the attention of the rest of the group, who turned to see something that _definitely_ did the job at putting a scare in them.

"DEMON! DEMON! DEMON!" They shrieked, leaping away and even some off the road entirely as the flame atronach started pelting them with firebolts. Talia felt a little of the stress and frustration evaporate at the sight of the horrified men leaping for their lives. The atronach hovered in place for a few moments, before Talia flickered her wrist and replaced it with Two-Sock, who promptly scratched his ear the moment he was summoned.

Talia turned and smirked at Duncan, who looked mildly startled, but at least wasn't about to jump off the road too. She found his expression even more satisfying than seeing the robbers run away.

"Well, what do ya think? Am I good or am I good?" She smirked even as Duncan's expression returned to his normal state of calm, collected and contemplating. Maybe those were his three 'C's, like hers were 'Work, Win and Violence'. Then again, she had only just made those up.

"You should… maybe not do that in a populated area." Duncan said after a few moments silent contemplation. Talia gaped in annoyance. She had just scared a bunch of highwaymen off without even killing one. What was the issue?

"What? Why not?"

"That thing…" Duncan started.

"The flame atronach?" Talia added, trying to save Duncan from trailing off. He nodded;

"It bears a strong resemblance to a Desire demon. If you use it near others, I may not be able to protect you from the templars." Duncan admitted with a concerned look in his eyes. Talia huffed and kicked a pebble in annoyance. Wasn't that a bummer? Her strongest conjuration, and she wasn't allowed to use it near people.

"A Desire demon?" She asked, trying to see how the atronach could be confused with something to be desired. True, it had a vaguely female shape, but other than that, she really didn't see it.

"Demons with the appearance of scantily clad women. They draw their powers from the victim's desires, hence the name." Duncan explained.

"…Oh." Talia muttered as they kept going, ignoring the highwayman hiding in the broken wagon; "How do you know what they look like if only mages get sent into that fade thing?"

"You misunderstand, Talia. Every time we dream, the Fade is where our souls are. Mages are just especially vulnerable due to your connection with the Fade."

"I don't have a _"connection"_ with the Fade. I'd never even been there before, until Irving shoved me into that dream-thing." Talia argued, then pointed a finger at her temple; "Also, my dreams _never_ look like some khaki sea of floating islands and creatures of fire trying to kill me."

"I am the wrong person to ask there, I'm afraid." Duncan excused himself. Talia huffed, setting off after Two-Sock who was chasing a poor squirrel. She never saw the sad expression in Duncan's eyes as he watched her run.

* * *

"So… this is Highever?" Talia mused as they passed through town. The place looked considerably better off than the other towns and villages she had seen, which could probably be contributed to their Jarl or "Teyrn" as Duncan called them. Talia really didn't have much of an idea as to what kind of power exactly a Teyrn held, but as long as the words 'more than an arl' were used, she knew it was enough power that she didn't want to be caught stealing sweet rolls from their kitchens; "Nice place."

"This is the town closest to the Highever Castle, yes. The Teyrn of Highever, Bryce Cousland and his wife hold power second to the king himself. Their lands stretch for hundreds of miles around the castle." Duncan explained as they passed by shops, marketplaces and stables. It reminded her a bit of Solitude, only closer to the ground, and less military-ish.

"Big and important people, understood." Talia acknowledged, nodding her head. Two-Sock was pointedly _not_ summoned, leaving people to see only a Warden and a mage. Which, from the looks she noticed, was an exciting event. Funny, people never seemed to stare when the class or just Talia alone had passed through towns and villages between the College and Solitude.

"If you can avoid provoking people, summoning your atronachs and not mentioning your religion, you can come with me to the Castle." Duncan stopped them as they reached sight of the moat surrounding a large castle. Talia tried whistling impressed, but only ended up blowing out air.

"No provoking, got it. And… Hey! I don't provoke." Talia declared as she caught the concealed reprimand. Duncan gave her a dry stare;

"You stated to Irving that you would like to see his tower razed to the ground." Duncan remarked in a completely calm, if slightly admonishing tone. Talia snorted and blew hair from her eyes;

"He _murdered_ my friend. He should be glad I didn't repay him on the spot." She growled, strands of red hair standing from the static electricity. Normally she hated when that happened, when her anger made her magic spin out on its own. Here, she didn't even care; "If I didn't think I would be killed before I could finish it, I'd have killed him where he stood."

Duncan seemed unnerved by her declaration. Probably, it was because there wasn't a trace of idle threat in her voice. She _would_ have done it. There wasn't even a shred of doubt in Talia's mind that she would have clawed and burnt the man to shreds if it wasn't because Duncan had been there. In Skyrim at least, murderers were dealt with swiftly and harshly.

"Talia… I _know_ you hurt from losing a friend, but Ferelden is at risk from a Blight. We need everyone, Irving included, to beat it." Talia ground her teeth in frustration at the teacher-like tone Duncan spoke with. It was annoying like a migraine when adults behaved like they were in the constant right.

"…_Fine_." She growled, turning away from Duncan. This in turn made her notice some snot-nosed boy who was staring at her from across the road. She sent the boy the most evil glare she could muster, causing him to turn and run like he was on fire. Good; "Let's just get to that damnable castle, get whatever recruits you're here for and get someplace where I can beat the shit out of something."

Duncan sighed and groaned at the same time, something that made him sound a bit like a tired cow. She didn't remark on that, but instead started walking when Duncan nodded and started for the castle's entrance. Guards in heavy armor stood by, observing the pair as they neared the gate.

"Halt, you are approaching the Castle of Highever, home of Teyrn Cousland, Lord of Highever and all the bannorns under her. State your purpose." One of the guards declared. He was looking more warily at Talia than Duncan, which made sense since she bore the expression of a woman ready to tear a man apart limp from limp. Really, she didn't mind people being a bit cautious around her, as long as they didn't try draining her.

"Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens. I seek an audience with the Teyrn, regarding recruitment for the order." Duncan stated with well-measured words as he presented a front so harmless, Talia could have taken him for a noble. _Not one of the fat ones at father's meetings… maybe._

"Warden-Commander Duncan?" the guard seemed utterly surprised and awed; "Of course, of course. Step right in. The Teyrn is awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you." Duncan nodded politely. As they passed by the guards, one of them cleared his throat.

"Warden-Commander, your companion looks a bit… angered. She isn't going to cause any trouble, I hope?" It was clear the man was terrified of causing offense to Duncan, but apparently misunderstood just _who_ it would piss off. Talia snapped around and readied a reply that would send the man either angered or cowering. Duncan beat her to it though;

"No worries. Talia is a Grey Warden recruit, she won't be causing any trouble." Talia's eyes widened at the reminder. _Piss, I completely forgot. I still need to find a way to… escape and… maybe…_

Her eyes narrowed and she chewed her cheek in thought. There was something she hadn't considered, back when she had been praying to the gods. She had promised she would be a better person than she had been up until that point. Would… would helping Duncan make her a better person?

"Of course, Warden-Commander. Please enter, and enjoy your stay." The man fidgeted under Duncan's gaze, causing Talia to crack, on purpose, a smirk at his cost. Still, there was the issue of how she was going to better herself enough that the gods would allow her wish. She hoped it was a start that she simply prayed for the wellbeing of others, but she had done that for Onmund and… and he… hadn't made it. Blast, she still couldn't even think about him without starting to lose her breath.

As they entered the large courtyard, Talia realized they were surrounded by parading soldiers. Hundreds of armed and armored men in chainmail and armor were marching around, drilling and preparing. For what she had no idea.

"Duncan, why are there so many soldiers out here?" She whispered as they passed through. When a soldier recognized them, or just Duncan, he quickly made a point not to get in the Warden's way. Talia had to admit there was a certain air of command around Duncan. Maybe that was what made soldiers obey him without even being ordered to.

"The Teyrn is marching for Ostagar, as are we when we have found what we came here for."

"Recruits. Right." She nodded, following in Duncan's heels as he opened the main door, entering a large, warm and well-lit room that seemed to serve as the main hall of the castle.

Three others, aside from the numerable guards, were standing next to a raised platform that also contained the main fireplace of the room. One was an obvious noble, his hair grey and his clothes fine and dark, mostly purple. Odd, that was a combination Talia didn't see often. Usually rich men wanted to dress off and show how content and relaxed they were.

In this, the second of the obvious nobles had things right. He was the same grey hair as his colleague, but his clothes were radiating wealth and power. Bright yellow and extremely fine silk, with dark-purple pants. Talia had grown up with nobles on all sides, she knew what to look for in wealthy men. Her eyes told her the bright and yellow man was the more powerful one, even if she couldn't put her finger on the concrete clues.

The third, and by far the youngest of the three, was the one that made her cock a brow. His short, dark hair stood in an orderly mess, if that was even a term. The left side of his face was decorated with a tattoo running from forehead to chin, intricate patterns giving him an almost mystic appearance.

Talia suddenly realized she was standing by the door while Duncan was already at the others. Great. Fantastic first impression. Why had she even zoned out? She had no idea and didn't care to find out. Instead, she hurried with the most dignified steps she could, to stand next to Duncan.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your halls, Teyrn Cousland." Duncan said. Talia offered the Teyrn a polite nod when he looked at her, but stayed silent and unnoticed otherwise. She had to focus to stop examining the youngest in the group. Purely out of contemplation if he could make a recruit, of course.

"Your lordship. You didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." The lesser noble said. Talia thought he sounded a bit annoyed, maybe at having been bypassed. Still, it wasn't her place to start interfering in foreign policies. That was, if anyone, her brother's job. Being the oldest, he was the one to inherit. _Also why father didn't sent the family armed forces after me._

"Duncan's visit was announced just recently, and as far as I am informed, he arrived just now. Is there a problem?" The Teyrn asked. His was a voice that carried respect, and Talia found herself actually interested in his words, even if he wasn't even talking to her.

"Of course not, but a guest of his stature demands certain protocol. I am… at a disadvantage." The man apologized. Talia nodded. She had already seen how Duncan's mere presence was intimidating to soldiers. It wasn't all that strange that he would befuddle a civilian, noble or not.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in-person, and here we seem to have two." The Teyrn agreed, turning to the young man next to him. Talia trailed between the two of them. There _was_ something similar between them, but she couldn't quite fixate on it. Related, perhaps?

"Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope?" Talia felt like kicking her own shin. She hadn't even considered the young man to be the bloody _son_ of the Teyrn. Thát, or it meant the young man was some sort of _dog_, if that even made sense.

"They are an order of great warriors." The young man said. He looked to his father, then to Duncan and then to Talia. _Mara's tits, why am I sweating? Piss. Keep it together. Be a better person, the gods will help Brelyna and J'zargo._

But he did have so warm eyes. Luckily, the Teyrn saved her, if unwittingly;

"They are the heroes of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all." The father explained. If only he knew that Talia was learning what he likely meant for his son to understand. There was a bit of funny irony in that, Talia mused to herself; "Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he has got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Talia blinked at that one. She snapped to look at Duncan who only returned a calm, level gaze. Damn the man to Oblivion for not telling her. Or, it wasn't like she cared, but… _Gilmore_ sounded so unwarrior-ish. Also, why hadn't Duncan told her? Maybe it was a bit like in the courts back in High Rock, where someone told a lie to distract from the real goal. _If that was the case… who'd be the real recruit? _

"If I might be so bold…" Duncan started; "I believe your son is also an excellent candidate." Duncan said. For reasons she wasn't fully conscious or accepting of, Talia did a mental dance. She stopped the moment she even realized it herself, and hurried making sure no one else had noticed.

Luckily, they were all looking at Duncan. _Except_ for that blasted youth. Or, not _youth_, but he was younger than her. She believed. She wasn't sure, but maybe. Her uncertainty didn't change the fact that the man was looking _at her_, like he was just as surprised as she was. _Great, I have an admirer. Yay me…_

"Honor though that might be, this is one of my sons we're talking about." The Teyrn said, putting himself between Duncan and… Talia didn't even know his name. Both snapped to look at the older men.

"I think I rather like the idea, Father." The boy said, almost as if he was nervous to be overruled. Talia knew the feeling, if that was the case.

"I've not so many children that I would gladly see them all off to battle." The Teyrn stated. His voice was a few degrees colder than it had started out; "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription…"

Talia snapped up at the mention. It had been the same thing mentioned by _Irving_ and Duncan back at the tower, and Duncan had been in the process of explaining it on the road when she or himself had derailed it. Blast, she had no idea what it meant, though it sounded like something where Duncan would force the boy to join the army.

"Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I have no intention of forcing the issue." Duncan stated. The Teyrn visibly became a lot less anxious at that statement. Talia, meanwhile, was starting to contemplate what similarities nobles in Ferelden had with the noble houses of High Rock. She was interrupted when the Teyrn spoke;

"Aedan, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I am gone?" So, his name was Aedan?

"Of course." Aedan stated with the perfect level of respect one gave one's noble father.

"In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me." The Teyrn said. So, Aedan Cousland? It almost sounded Imperial. She'd have taken him for an Imperial if she hadn't known better.

"Where is Fergus?" Aedan asked.

"Upstairs in his chambers, no doubt, spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson." Talia's eyes widened slightly at that. The Teyrn didn't look _that_ old, did he? "Be a good lad and do as I ask. We'll talk soon."

"Yes father" Aedan replied, nodded to the Wardens and left the room. Duncan looked at Talia;

"I believe this is a more delicate point of matters, Talia. Feel free to explore the castle, I will find you later." Duncan said. For some reason, Talia thought she saw a hint of something in his eyes. It was gone so fast, it was just as likely an illusion. She decided not to pay it any mind, and left the room. She pointedly chose the opposite door of the one Aedan had used. If she didn't actively follow him, nothing that happened could be her fault, could it?

Outside in the corridors between buildings, walls and towers, she hit her back against the wall, blowing out a deep sigh of relief. She had no idea what exactly had happened. Or, she might, but those thoughts were idiotic. She had run away from home _because_ of not wanting anything to do with nobles and their sons.

"Mara's tits that-" she stopped herself. Maybe an improvement would also be not to swear and curse. At least, not without very good reason. Fine then; "Mara's _grace,_ that was awkward."

Ignoring the looks she received from the guards, Talia pushed herself off the wall and started down the corridors. She might as well find something to do that had no connection to the Teyrn's son. Maybe there was a library? She stopped a patrolling guard, and despite being uncomfortable around her, maybe because she was a mage, she was shown the way to the library, which also turned out to house an older man.

"Ah, a visitor?" He said as she entered the room. There definitely were books in there. Not as many as Urag's Arcanum, but still enough to keep her occupied with reading. She nodded and smiled politely at the man; "Come in, come in."

"Thank you. Would you… mind if I killed time here?" She asked, glancing around. A pair of small boys, apprentices of some kind no doubt, were standing next to the old man. He was, oddly enough, dressed as a mage.

"Not at all, child. You are here with the Grey Wardens, aren't you?" The man, who had to be the Aldous she had heard mentioned, asked. His beard was the largest she had seen so far, and she had no idea why that even mattered.

"I… am, yes. You are Brother Aldous?" Talia asked, and was fully prepared for the man to deny that. What would the odds be, after all, that she had bumped into the one person she would know the name of by pure reference?

"I am honored that the Grey Wardens know of me. By chance of your visit, I am teaching these young squires of the Grey Wardens' history." The man proclaimed proudly. One of the boys, the blonde one, groaned;

"Ugh, do we have to? History is boring." The kid said. Talia didn't care that he talked about the Grey Wardens; this snot-nosed whelp was discarding the value of history. She sent him a glare.

"Boys, you are referring to the history of the very Order currently working to safeguard our nation from the threat of a new Blight. As well as the order of our guest. Show some respect." Talia decided now was another chance at getting some steam blown off;

"You boys know that the Wardens recruit mages?" She asked, pointedly studying her nails.

"They recruit everyone." The other boy said, obviously just as bored as his friend. Talia flickered a bright flame to life in her palm, glaring death at both boys;

"Would you prefer that I teach you history? I can assure you, you would enjoy it less than with your tutor."

"See what happens when you let your mouth wander where the mind isn't?" Aldous asked the boys with a stern tone; "The mind withers just as the body without its exercise. Perhaps you would like to join me to teach the lesson?"

Oh. She hadn't considered _that_ a possible outcome. There was a slight issue with Aldous' request, mainly that Talia had more knowledge on the behavior of pregnant Khajiit than she did on the Grey Wardens.

"I… think you are more suited for the task, Brother Aldous. I would love to attend though." There. She had reminded the man that she was only a newcomer to the order, and without revealing it to the two boys, who were likely dumb as pouches of cow fat. Faralda's influence was rubbing off, if _that_ was what she used to insult people.

"Of course. The Grey Wardens date back to the time of the first Blight…" Aldous launched into a long, long even for Talia's mind, explanation. She suddenly didn't blame the boys for being bored, even though she still considered the both of them to be snot-nosed brats. If they only knew how many sons and daughters of peasants back home would benefit from merely this simple education.

The door behind her swung open, followed by the sound of dog-feet trotting across the floor before tackling one of the small boys. Talia stared in amazement at the creature, the dog was at least the size of a small bear, made from sheer muscle and with teeth that looked like they could bite through chainmail.

And yet it was slobbering drool all over the laughing boy.

"Turk, down boy!" The second arrival came through the door, laughing at the dog's behavior. _Sweet Mara, it's him again…_

Aedan was splattered with blood, of all things, giving him a slightly off-putting appearance. His dog was even worse, now that Talia noticed. It's entire head was covered in semi-dried blood. Talia knew some nobles back in High Rock had been known for hunting the lawless themselves, or even cruelly chasing down random peasants. Of course, it wasn't likely Aedan had been doing _that_.

Not that she knew him or anything, but he seemed too polite to do something like that. The dog obeyed him, getting off the now soaked youth who was helped up by his laughing friend. Despite wanting to escape a conversation with Aedan, Talia couldn't help giggling at the way the squire's hair was one big, wet mess of spikes. _Blast, now he probably noticed me…_

"Sorry about the interruption, Aldous. I hope nothing too serious was cut short?" Aedan asked the old man, even as a newcomer with red hair looked through the door, muttered a 'Maker' and promptly left again. Talia concluded the people of Highever were strange.

"We happen to have just completed a lesson on the Grey Wardens, my lord." Aldous replied, then gestured at Talia. Oh, that old traitor, he was; "I thought it was fitting with our guests being who they are."

Aedan suddenly seemed to notice Talia, or maybe he was finally forced to actually look at her, she didn't know which. He was wearing brown armor, with an insignia of crossed spears with a leaf in the middle. His family's coat of arms maybe?

Talia, who was both noble-born and technically a Grey Warden recruit, didn't want to appear anything akin to weak near the son of the Teyrn. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the closest pillar, (which took a few steps to the side top accomplish) and greeted Aedan with a polite nod and an obvious once-over.

Better to establish dominance if Aedan actually came along when they left. Or, not that she wanted him to come along. That Ser Gilmore was probably all fine too. Of course.

And of course Aedan had to smile at her and approach. Great. Why wasn't he turning around and fleeing her attempt at snarling? Right, because her snarl had become something of an amusing frown. _Gods am I glad J'zargo isn't here right now. He'd never let me live this down._

"My lord." She sighed, greeting him with what she assumed was the demanded reverence. She hoped the disinterested tone would be enough to scare him off instantly. It was rather difficult to keep up.

"I don't believe we have been introduced." Aedan said with that same Daedra-be-cursed smile on his face. Talia wanted to do things to that smile, not all of them involving a fist. Great, now he expected her to introduce herself. What was she even going to say? He probably wasn't going to believe her if she said she was from another continent, or land to begin with.

Still, she bowed her head. Might as well start being that _better person_ by showing the needed respect to the noble-born man. Or, Aedan. Same thing. Completely;

"Talia Aulus Geotien, my lord." Maybe just saying her name would be enough. Blast, there was the damned smile again, even if he visibly tried suppressing it;

"Aedan Cousland, pleasure to meet you, Talia Aulus."

"Just… just 'Talia'… my lord." She couldn't tell him why, of course. All her life, when people called her 'Aulus', it was as if they used her to talk to her father, or wanted to arrange a marriage. She usually set people on fire if they didn't get the hints that she wasn't interested.

"Then I insist you call me Aedan." She was going to throw up out of embarrassment if he didn't stop smiling like that soon, she just knew it. And the buzzing in her stomach didn't help one bit. Aedan gestured for her to follow her outside. What could she do, deny the Teyrn's son? She followed him, into the warm sun bathing the corridors. So, it was midday.

"If you want, Aedan."

"Talia, you are one of the Grey Wardens, right?" Aedan asked. Suddenly, his tone was completely changed from before. Gone was the politeness, the noble tone that suggested rich articulation and education. Now, it was eagerness, idealism and jovial friendliness. Talia blinked, trying to figure out if this was a new person.

"I… guess. I mean, I am not… I am a recruit, so I don't know if that counts." She stammered. Blast it, where was Duncan to save her? She felt like she was fifteen again, surrounded with those servants trained for something other than cleaning. Gods this was awkward.

"Duncan recruited you? Where from? Your accent is really strange, no offense intended, of course. I just haven't heard anything like it before." He shone with warmth and curiosity. It was obvious he was younger than her, as well as not having been through much hardship in his life. Oh, but the innocent look in his eyes, even with the speck of dried blood on his cheek.

Talia suppressed a horrifyingly girly giggle at his boyish charm, even if she delivered the reply as drily as she could;

"He recruited me, yes. I was a… guest, at Kinloch Hold." She decided not to use the word 'prisoner', as there was a risk Aedan would be of the same mindset as those who believed she belonged behind bars and stone walls. She'd grown up behind stone walls, she wasn't going to live her life behind them.

"A guest? So, you're a mage? I mean, the clothes are a little odd, but you don't look like a mage."

"Oh?" She wasn't sure whether that was a compliment.

"I mean…" He seemed to realize his words could be misunderstood; "I just, ehm… because I didn't think mages were beautiful women and- no, I mean that your…" He trailed off and started reddening with shame. Talia couldn't help herself, and laughed at the boy's obvious embarrassment. Good, she wasn't the only one with the tendency to redden around the better looking versions of the other sex. Not that, Aedan was better looking, or… he wasn't 'not' good looking, but… _I am arguing with myself. Way to go, Talia._

"Sorry. Sorry, couldn't help it." She apologized the moment she could speak again. Aedan seemed mildly deflated, but also a bit encouraged that he had made her laugh. Wasn't a boy supposed to lose hope if the girl laughed _at_ him? She decided to help him out a little, adding a mischievous smirk; "Piece of advice: never call a girl's clothes 'odd'. She might set you on fire for it"

"Right, sorry, it's just you're not the usual kind of visitor here." He seemed to calm down a bit; "I'm not particularly good at talking to girls, sorry."

"Oh don't worry. You're already doing miles better than most of the people my esteemed father would try pairing me up with." She gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. It was more of a touch, really, seeing how a guard might think she was attacking him _if_ she actually punched him.

"That's… good to hear, I think. Wait, why would your father try pairing you with others?" Aedan asked. Right, no one knew she was noble. Well, no reason to change that perception… wait. Oh blast it, she'd just put a foot in her mouth again, hadn't she?

"He wanted to build alliances." She shrugged, trying to sound as disinterested on the subject as possible. Aedan didn't seem deterred, damn whatever divine gave him his curiosity.

"If you don't mind me asking, Talia. And, I am not even sure how to word this…" Aedan began. Talia could sense what he wanted to ask, so she decided to spare him the agony of coming up with a non-offensive question. Mainly because he looked so adorable with the questioning and insecure expression on his handsome face.

"You are wondering just where I come from, don't you, Aedan?" She asked in a soft tone. The subject wasn't nearly as painful to remember as Onmund, but knowing she was now even further away from any home she had ever known… it was more painful than she would have thought.

"If you don't mind sharing. You really don't sound like a Fereldan, no offense."

"None taken. Funny, at the tower I had to yell at people to even get them to listen." She huffed, smiling to Aedan. _Now who's blushing, eh?_ She thought with a bit of glee. The only part of Aedan's face not changing slightly in color was his dark tattoo; "I'm from High Rock. My father is Omluard Aulus Geotien, governor of Evermor."

Aedan looked slightly baffled.

"I… haven't heard of those places before. You're not just pulling my legs here, right?" He asked with a grin starting to form on his lips. Talia blew a sigh that scattered the red strands from her eyesight. So, maybe a piece of evidence would be needed?

"My people, I am Breton by the way, are some of the most powerful mages you'd ever be able to scrounge up." She flickered open her palm, revealing the pulsating orb of darkness and purple; "Wanna meet one of my friends?"

Aedan glanced around, obviously not seeing anyone, then looked at her hand. As his attention was focused on her fingers, Talia examined his face again. Why was there no one in Winterhold or Evermor_ this_ handsome? Blast whomever decided where people were born.

"Your friend is an orb?" Aedan finally asked. Talia grinned, snapping her fingers together. The sound of Oblivion tearing startled Aedan, and he nearly leapt back when Two-Sock materialized before him. Talia knelt down and scratched the familiar behind its ears.

"Aedan, meet Two-Sock. Two-Sock, Aedan." She declared, giving the familiar the hand sign for 'paw'. Two-Sock sat on his rump and extended a ghostly transparent paw towards Aedan. To the young man's credit, he took it. He still looked like someone had slapped him with a fish, though.

"So… this is… what is- I mean-what-is Two-Sock?" He poured out the last words, obviously still a little taken aback. Talia giggled and scratched her wolf's ears.

"Two-Sock is my familiar, and one of the first spells I learned was how to cast. It's a bit like a regular dog, only he's far more intelligent, doesn't poop on the floor and he doesn't even need food." Talia explained. She could still feel the odd buzzing in her stomach when he looked at her, like an urge. She just didn't know what to do with it.

"I get the magical advantages, but no dog can be more intelligent than a Mabari." Aedan said, smiling before he whistled a clear tone. Turk, the giant dog Talia had seen earlier, came charging out the door to the library, tongue hanging from its mouth; "There, boy."

It stopped, standing still as it nuzzled Aedan's hand. Two-Sock trotted over to the massive hound, causing Talia to smirk when Turk whined in surprise. Clearly, the dog had never seen a familiar before.

"And you said?" She grinned, patting Two-Sock. Aedan gave an amused grin himself as he nudged his dog forward. Turk eventually worked up the courage to sniff the ethereal wolf back, wrinkling his stubby nose when there wasn't any scent to pick up.

"Fine, you have an awesome dog." Aedan admitted. He smiled at Talia, causing something to shiver and flutter in her chest; "I get the impression you're telling the truth…Soooo, wanna tell me how you ended up with Duncan?"

"I thought nobles' sons were supposed to be all rigid and proud and chasing girls." Talia remarked, dismissing Two-Sock before some random guard would call 'demon' at the sight of him.

"Nope, I do all that. I just happen to be curious too. Wooing the beautiful, mysterious girl comes later" He said, grinning with the same dung-eater smirk she herself sometimes used. _If there is a joke here somewhere, I haven't gotten it yet._ She mused to herself.

Maybe Duncan wanted her to attract Aedan so much that he would join the Grey Wardens? Was that why Duncan had looked at her like that, seen the emotions flare across her face. In that case, the old guy was a creepy bugger, but remarkably sneaky. So a sneaky fart, in the end. Those _were_ the deadly ones, she'd been told._  
_

"Smart-ass." She muttered, shaking her head before speaking; "Alright, but it is kind of a long story."

Aedan hummed, hands behind his back as they walked. She got the impression he was trying to figure her out. Well, good luck with that one, she smiled;

"I love long stories. Are there griffons in it?" Aedan asked, causing Talia to miss a step. _Are there what in it?_

"I'm sorry… what?" She asked, giving Aedan a confused look. He seemed completely serious, like she was supposed to know what griffons were; "are there what in it?"

"Griffons? Big flying half-bird half-lion animals the Grey Wardens used to ride?"

"Ah… no. But there's a talking cat in it." She allowed herself a small smile at the way Aedan changed from curious to deflated to curious again. He was like a child, really. A _hot_ child. Still, she couldn't do _that_ with him. He was a noble, not some unaware servant who just happened to pass her by at the right moment. She couldn't… could she?

"A talking cat?" Aedan's question brought her out of the contemplation. Good thing too, she was starting to wander down less virtuous alleys of her mind.

"Mmm. It all started when my dad wanted to set me up with some doofus from another noble house, arranged marriage and all that." Talia explained, making sure her voice wasn't betraying her earlier thoughts. Mara, Aedan probably already was engaged to some other house for all she knew.

"Like what my father wants between me and Delilah Howe." Aedan grumbled. Talia wasn't sure whether to sigh in relief or annoyance that Aedan was taken.

"I suppose. Well, I wasn't having any of that, so I ran away one night. I stole away on a ship, ended up in Skyrim and took the first carriage to Winterhold's College. Gods know it was the right choice…" She mused at the memory, now a funny thing to look back on, rather than the frustrating uncertainty of where the Blast she was.

"Gods?" Aedan asked. Talia kicked herself over the mental shin. _Great job, you did exactly what Duncan told you _not_ to say out loud._

Talia sighed, glancing at Aedan to gauge his expression. He looked more curious than anything, which could be interpreted in a lot of ways.

"I don't… Listen, things are different where I come from." She tried. Her voice turned a lot softer than before, mostly because she wanted Aedan to understand she wasn't saying anything about his Maker. Aside from how mages were treated, she had nothing against the Chantry.

"So… you don't worship the Maker?" His voice was both shocked and confused, but still mostly surprised and curious. Talia gave him a small smile, shaking her head softly;

"...No. No one in Tamriel has ever even _heard_ of the Maker. We've always had our gods, the Aedra. I don't know how to explain it, really. Just, don't tell anyone, okay?" She almost, _almost_ pleaded with him. But only 'almost'. Talia didn't plead with people. It wasn't something she did.

"Sure. I'm not really thát religious myself, so I'm not going to turn you in to the big, scary Chantry." He returned her earlier punch to the shoulder. Talia wanted to hit him for even making her nervous like that, but settled for a relieved sigh.

"Good. Thanks." She said, looking into his eyes. _Blast! Why did I start looking- I hate this country._

"So… you got to Winterhold?" Aedan asked as they wandered on, passing soldiers, guards and servants on the way; "I'm guessing it's a cold place?"

"How did you know it-…Oh ha, ha, _ha_." She mock-laughed, punching his shoulder with a bit more force this time; "Aren't you just the funniest?"

"Funny, mother says the exact same words when I joke around her." Aedan mused; "Winterhold, what happened then?" Talia wanted to set his pants on fire for comparing her to a _mother_, of all things. Granted, it was probably a compliment in Ferelden or something, but she didn't care to get put in the same class as a woman who'd already married, given birth and given up kicking butt.

"Right. I enrolled in the College, our school for teaching and learning magical arts."

"So, it's like a tower?" Aedan asked. Talia bristled at the comparison of her home through three years and the dungeon for mages. She stopped walking and grabbed Aedan by the shoulder;

"Don't. _ever_. compare Winterhold to that place. Noble or not, I will set you on fire if you dirty my home by comparing it to the place where Onmund was murdered." She growled. Aedan's expression was one of utter surprise and confusion.

"What, I- what did-"

"The College is so different from the places they lock up mages that you wouldn't understand. In Kinloch hold, they slaughtered my friend through three years because he didn't wake up fast enough. They locked us up for being mages, they declared we were to never even leave the blasted place again, and they insisted I should be grateful for being there!" She was working hard not to shout at him. Aedan looked like someone had told him his parents were secretly Horkers.

"I… I'm sorry, Talia. I didn't know." He said. Talia's glare softened, and she realized her hand had left a small scorch-mark on Aedan's pauldron. A stream of emotions welled up in her, causing her to stagger and slump against the closest wall, tears welling into her eyes. _Gods! Why, why? They killed my friend, they killed my friend! Why did they kill Onmund and not me!? Why did Onmund have to die, just for their sick trial!?_

"They… my friends and I, we arrived here by mistake." She whispered. It was all she could to avoid her voice breaking up; "We were just supposed to go to the Synod, but then the scroll misfired or, I don't know what happened, but then templars attacked us and we didn't even know why." She ground her jaws together, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her robes before standing against the wall. She wasn't going to be weak. She wasn't going to let Brelyna and J'zargo down, even if her mind told her she wasn't going to have any impact on their fates; "I… I'm sorry I lashed out."

"It's okay. I... I didn't know what you've been through." Aedan said, giving her shoulder an awkward squeeze. Talia knew he just tried to help, which almost made it worse because she had just shouted at him. A lot of the nobles she'd met over the years of her childhood wouldn't hesitate to have her jailed for something like that. Aedan just took her hand, his own admittedly gloved in chainmail; "Are you hungry?"

The question caught her so much off guard that she wasn't sure what eye to blink first. She had just nearly assaulted Aedan, and now he was offering her food? The absurdity of it all made her laugh a bit;

"I… guess. Maybe." She muttered. Upon seeing the relieved, yet still concerned expression on Aedan's face, she made up her mind; "Yeah, I am a bit hungry, actually."

"I'm going to wish Fergus goodbye. You want to find something to eat after that?" Aedan said, still clearly awkward about the situation. Still, he was kind to Talia, something few men in the land had been so far. She wasn't sure she liked the emotions churning in her stomach, knowing they had nothing to do with hunger, but she didn't mind the idea of spending a bit more time with Aedan. If nothing else it could mean he would join the Grey Wardens and she wouldn't be more or less alone again.

"I think I'd like that." She agreed, smiling. Something in the back of her mind yelled of caution and restraint, but she didn't pay it any heed. If she was stuck here for the near future, she might as well make a better impression.

* * *

Fergus turned out to be in the middle of say farewell to his family. His wife was fidgeting and obviously didn't like the idea of her husband riding off to war, while his son was talking a mile a minute, wanting his father to bring him back a 'real _sward_'. It seemed to Talia, as she waited outside the door, that boys would never change, no matter where on Nirn you were. And what by Akatosh was 'thruthiness' supposed to mean?

Talia smiled a little to herself as she listened to the exchange and farewells. Her eyes were closed and she simply rested against the wall, finding some small solace in the obvious depth and love the family was bonded with. She only opened her eyes when she heard someone walking towards her, or rather the door. Opening her eyes, she almost leapt back in surprise, but managed to just give off a surprised 'eep' as she recognized the Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland.

While one could be forgiven for forgetting that Aedan was a noble, but both parents carried themselves with a distinct air of nobility, in all meanings of the word. Talia breathed. She'd been dealing with the nobles of High Rock since she could write her own name. Hopefully, customs were the same here.

"Teyrn Cousland, Teyrna Cousland." It really sounded odd when spoken out loud, but it was how nobles were addressed back home. Hopefully, she hadn't just insulted them.

"I am afraid I don't know your name, mage." Teyrn Cousland replied with a polite smile. There was no malice in the way he said 'mage', so she didn't mind. Before Talia could even reply, Aedan emerged from the door, seeing her before he noticed his parents.

"Talia, you wanna commmmmm...-" he trailed off as he noticed his parents; "I mean, mother, father. You have… met Talia Aulus?" He stammered. Talia forced her expression to remain politely pleased, and hence suppressed the grin threatening to form at the way Aedan blushed. _Well, that handled the 'introducing' part._

"A pleasure, Miss Aulus." The Teyrna said. Her tone was formal, but not dishonest. Talia smiled;

"The pleasure, and honor, is all mine, my lady. Please, I do not wish to interrupt." Talia insisted, stepping back from the door. Before anyone could say anything, Aedan made a mock-sad frown;

"But you _have_ to. Oren wants to meet Two-Socks." He insisted. Talia groaned, not caring that a pair of powerful nobles were standing less than two meters away. Aedan had told his nephew, and by extent his brother and brother's wife about the familiar. Aedan's mother raised a brow in confusion;

"Why would Oren want to meet a pair of socks?" She said, then glanced at Talia; "Is there something I am missing here?" To which Talia resigned herself to her fate. If she lived, she was going to get Aedan back for this, one way or the other;

"It… Two-_Sock_," And here she directed the word 'sock' to Aedan; ", is my familiar. I _am_ a mage, so I can't do a lot of fighting myself, my lady." She explained. She doubted the older woman understood a lot of what she meant, but it wouldn't hurt hoping for a high intellect.

"What is a familiar, if you don't mind me asking?" Bryce Cousland asked. Of course Talia couldn't say that she did mind, which she did because if Aedan was startled, how wouldn't his parents react too seeing Two-Sock? The result would likely be that they were just as startled. Then again, maybe not.

"With your permission, my lord, I will show rather than simply tell." Talia replied, her hand already holding the dark, pulsating sphere. When the Teyrn nodded, she snapped her fingers.

Two-Sock appeared on the ground. Talia's eyes widened when the familiar actually appeared to be asleep. She knew familiar needed neither sleep nor food, so… She grinned as realization struck her. Two-Sock _was_ intelligent. He'd probably noticed how startled Aedan was, and decided to be as unthreatening as possible. _Damn… Good boy._

"Well… I'll be an Orlesian." The Teyrn muttered as Talia scratched Two-Sock behind his ears; "I have never heard of _this_ type of magic before."

"Few outside my home country have, my lord. Two-Sock has been with me for over ten years, he is my closest friend and the only link to my family in High Rock. Also, he loves children." Talia said, eying a small boy poking his head out from the door.

"Wow!" Oren, it had to be him, walked over to where Two-Sock was enjoying Talia's scratching of his ears. The familiar turned its head and observed Oren as the boy froze on the spot. Talia tried very hard not to grin, but lost thát fight when she noticed two new faces appearing from the room. One was Fergus, Aedan's brother, and the woman was obviously Oriana, his wife. Talia smiled and clapped Two-Sock's belly, making him know it was time to get off his lazy butt and greet the awestruck boy.

"What kind of magic… is he a spirit?" Fergus asked, watching his son touch the ethereal wolf. Talia looked up at him, biting her lip. She actually didn't know how to answer that question.

"Not… in the traditional sense. He didn't exist before I made him. He is a part of my soul, I guess, so he knows what I want him to do without me even telling him. Other than that he behaves like a completely normal, tame wolf."

"Magic truly is the Maker's gift, right Oren?" Fergus mused. Talia's smile widened a little at that. Oren didn't reply, he was too busy burrowing his hands on Two-Sock's stomach, delivering a devastating belly-rub. Two-Sock was on his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

* * *

Later, when Fergus had departed, Talia and Aedan went to his room, a large, rather cozy place with a fireplace, a large bed and a basket for an already snoring Turk. Who'd have known real dogs _snored?_ Two-Sock never slept. Talia waited on the edge of Aedan's bed, watching Turk snore while Aedan fetched food from the pantry.

She felt a bit… odd, about the situation. She hadn't planned anything, and certainly not this. If there even was a _this_ to not have been planned. She didn't know, but was glad Two-Sock was there to deter a situation, not sure which. It all felt so, so _weird_ she supposed, waiting for a young, handsome man on his bed. _Not_ that the bed was going to be used or-_ Gah, Blast! My mind is rebelling, I will not have it. Quiet down brain, or I shall drown you in mead._

She still felt the butterflies in her stomach. Or, in her case it was usually called 'wasps', but she wasn't even of a mind to consider that. It wasn't as if she couldn't leave at any time she wanted. She was free to leave, of course, and Aedan wouldn't even try to stop her. Why _was_ she even there, waiting on his bed?_ Well the chair doesn't look nearly as comfy._

Gods, what was wrong with her?

She kicked off her boots, the footwear hitting the floor with almost inaudible _thuds_ where they sagged and collapsed on themselves. Deciding that, why the Blast not, she fell backwards onto the bed, arms outstretched above her head. _Man, this thing could probably fit a giant... Okay, but an Orc then_.

The material was sooooo soft and cushioning.

Maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all. She'd still need to find Brelyna and Onmund, but for now her best bet to do that would be to help Duncan and his Grey Wardens. Even if it would mean becoming a member, there was nothing they could do to stop her from high-tailing it back to Tamriel at the first given opportunity, was there? She hadn't seen anything suggesting Duncan was capable of draining magica, or he'd have probably used it on her flame atronach before she told him it was harmless.

And, if she was going to help Duncan, what better way to do that than to give Aedan a reason to want to join the Wardens? This night could end up being one she remembered with amusement, or just satisfaction, depending on how events transpired.

* * *

**Oh yes, yes, yes, we're going through not just the human magi origin with Talia, but also the Human Noble origin with Aedan (yes, I know. Unimaginative name) Still, I do enjoy writing strong female characters.**

**Also, something I should have mentioned in chapter 2: I do not dislike Wynne. She is probably one of the coolest characters in DA because she is an old lady who kicks ass... kinda like Anna Fisher, but I digress. I just showed her through Talia's eyes.**

**Please review, and try guessing what will happen in the next chapter ;)**


	4. Come Hell or Highever

**Not... a whole lot of response to chapter 3, but I suppose it depends on what people like to read. I did get one review though, and the image of Zevran with his balls lit on fire is now stuck in my mind. XD**

* * *

With passion'd breath does the darkness creep.  
It is the whisper in the night, the lie upon your sleep.

_-Transfigurations 1:5_

* * *

**Come Hell or Highever**

* * *

Aedan was exhilarated. He was also slightly terrified. Both had the same cause, which was weird, and unusual because normally one would make the other impossible, right? So, why was he feeling like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest?

Maybe, it was because a more or less foreign, beautiful girl was waiting for him, in his room, right now? Nah, that couldn't be it. _Maker, what am I supposed to- I mean, what does she even want? Or, what- does she expect me to take the initiative, or maybe she just wants to talk? What if I make the wrong move and offend her or-_

"Aedan, you're up late." He snapped up at the voice. Nan was looking at him with an expectant stare, waiting for him to come up with an excuse that wasn't going to involve 'I have a beautiful girl in my room'. It would be easier to just say he was double-hungry, which could be supported by him wearing just his fine clothes. He'd dumped the armor in his room.

"Hi Nan… I ehm… just got a bit hungry." He tried, resisting the urge to nervously scratch his neck. One reason being it would make him drop the tray of food he was holding. Nan didn't seem convinced. She picked up one of the flagons on the tray and sniffed;

"And that is why you have _two_ flagons of our finest ale with you? Aedan, are you planning something_ untoward_?" Nan demanded. Andraste's knickers, she was worse than his mother! "I have seen you waltzing around with that mage-girl, young man."

"I…I-I…" His voice caught in his throat as his face heated up. This was just about the last thing he needed now, for Nan to start berating him for making friends with Talia. Because, she only wanted to be his friend, right? That was all. Nan just shook her old head;

"Maker knows it was high time you actually took an interest in someone." Nan said. Her change in tone caught Aedan completely by surprise; "Just don't break down when she leaves us again. The Wardens are needed down south, along with your brother. She's likely going to leave soon."

"I _know_." He hadn't even planned on sounding so annoyed. It just came out because he knew she was right. Nan usually was. It was how she stayed on top of just about every situation. Unless it was Turk getting into the larder. Then she would raise hell and probably scare off whatever demons were lurking in the closest sleeping minds too. Nan put the flagon back on his tray, giving the food a once-over;

"You won't get far with just the ale and bread." Nan said, pulling open a closet on the wall. She extracted a wheel of yellow cheese, dumping it on his tray; "There. Makes up for you missing dinner, I suppose. Now, off with you."

Aedan hurried off before whatever kind spirit possessing Nan decided to leave again. He ended up walking the darkening outdoors corridors, his mind adrift in the dimming skies above. _Won't get far…won't get far with what? What did Nan…Nah, it's not like she knows my mind or… damn, she probably does. Wouldn't surprise me, even._

But, what _was_ on his mind?

The answer was pretty simple: Talia. Aedan sighed, thinking about the striking redhead in his room. How her hair seemed to change color in the lights, going between orange and blood-red colors, in such contrast to her skin. He knew, he _knew_ he didn't even really know her, but… he _could_ get to know her, couldn't he? No one said she was leaving _tomorrow_, although there seemed to be a risk for just that to happen. Maybe, if he hid away Ser Gilmore, she'd be forced to stay? _No… no she wouldn't. They'd just leave without either of us._

_Maker,_ why was this so hard?

Something had stirred in Aedan when Talia looked at him in the library. It was… it was like she had been evaluating him, like a predator. He wanted to laugh at the notion, that Talia had been examining him, like she had been… _planning,_ what went on. Women didn't just plan those things, did they? Men were the ones to take charge and everything, that was what dad had told him.

And yet, Aedan had ended up more than willing to completely subject to Talia's behavior earlier. She had done something in the corridors, something _no one_ else had ever even _dared_ to do. She had grabbed him and given him a verbal what-for, if that was even what it could be called. No one had ever even tried that before, and Aedan suddenly found that he didn't really blame her. There had been something in her eyes, like a spark of determination when she told him how the tower had killed her friend. And then, she'd just broken down on him.

Aedan had never been to the Circle. He wasn't a mage, so why should he? Mother Mallol had taught him what went on in the towers, how magically gifted children would grow up there, safe from the outside world while they learned how to control their powers. Templars, as she had explained, would provide protection from demons, though the Mother had never gone beyond that to explain just how they did it.

Was Talia right? Were the templars there to murder those mages who took too long to wake up, and wake up from what trial? It all hurt to think about, that the very same templars patrolling the towns and roads for maleficar and apostates would also kill those mages already living in the towers. _The world really is going the wrong way these days… Blights begin, Grey Wardens turn up, mages are killed for failing a test or a trial… Maker, what is going on in this land?_

Aedan shook his head of the thoughts, uncomfortable as they were. He had to focus now. Talia was from a strange, new land, and she likely didn't know a whole lot about Ferelden. There should be plenty to talk about, and Aedan really liked it when Talia just talked, short time as he might have known her. There was just something… _magical_ about it. Aedan grinned a little at the unintended pun.

It probably didn't help that just seeing her face in his mind aroused him. It was a new feeling, and he wasn't even remotely certain what he was supposed to do with it. Father had often told him, in secret so that mother didn't hear, about the people, and women, he himself had known in his youth. Aedan wondered if something similar would happen tonight. He wouldn't _mind_ if it did.

Stopping by his closed door, Aedan carefully pushed it open with a long, creaking sound. He poked his head in first, careful not to drop the tray in his hands. Inside, Talia was lying face-up on his bed, staring at the ceiling while her ghostly dog was on the floor. Two-Sock looked at Aedan with eyes frightfully intelligent. Maybe as intelligent as a Mabari. The familiar blinked and yawned, but remained silent. _Thanks. Good… ehm, dog?_

Talia still hadn't noticed him when he stepped into the room, and Aedan hazarded a long look at her. From this angle, her perky nose was more prominent, and her red hair was spread across the covers. She looked both wild and peaceful at the same time, an odd combination, but one he found to be almost intoxicating. True, he was scared. He wasn't sure _what_ exactly he was scared of, but something about having the beautiful mage on his bed was setting alarms off in his mind. Maybe it was the newness of it all, he thought.

Aedan breathed a silent sigh of appreciation when Talia closed her eyes, obviously relaxing. It was a good sign, even he knew that. There was some part of him regretting to have never joined the knights and lesser nobles when they visited the brothels. Then at least he would have some sort of experience with this sort of thing. Now, he felt like he was standing at the edge of some huge cliff. She hadn't noticed him yet, or maybe she had and just felt relaxed in his presence. That would be even better if she had. _Maker…_

Talia yawned, scratching her side with a lazy movement. It was so utterly undignified, and yet it simply added to what Aedan already perceived of her. He knew things about her, things he was supposed to have told the Chantry. She was not of the Andrastian faith. She had foreign gods. He had been raised to revere only the Maker and his bride. So… why hadn't he told Mother Mallol yet?

He knew the answer, and yet he didn't. Talia was something new, something so completely different, and Aedan was utterly fascinated with her person, intoxicated by her beauty and enraptured by her way of moving, behaving and speaking. He wanted… he wasn't sure how to put it in civilized terms, but he wanted her. He wanted to understand her, her origins, her person. He wanted… he just _wanted_ _her_.

Still, the way she scratched her side was so adorable that he couldn't help an amused chuckle.

* * *

Talia didn't hear the door creaking open, and noticed nothing before someone was standing above her, an amused chuckle alerting her to the fact that Aedan had entered without she even paid it any attention. _Blast and- Had that been Ancano back home, he could have made me a thrall before I even screamed._

But the bed was _sooooo_ comfortable.

"When I invited you in here, I didn't mean for you to fall asleep before I came back, you know?" Aedan mused. His hands were occupied, holding a tray of food from the pantry. Talia jumped up, eyes wide and cheeks red from embarrassment. Why was she so embarrassed? She'd been with plenty of the male servants back home, and that hadn't been-_ Okay, shut up brain! We're _not_ doing anything!_

"Right. Sorry, I- is that cheese?" She stopped herself midsentence as her eyes locked on to the wheel of yellow cheese sitting at the center of the tray. With everyone being friendly, the beds being perfect and cheese, fresh cheese, being an option, Talia was starting to have the nagging fear that this was the same sort of dream she had been through at the tower.

"I… think so?" Aedan offered as he placed the tray on the bed. When he stopped before sitting down _on his own bed_, Talia knew more or less what was going on in his mind. It _had_ been more or less going through _hers_ for the better part of the day. She sighed, fell back on the bed and looked into the ceiling;

"Sit your noble butt down, I don't bite." She was _very_ tempted to add a 'yet', but didn't. It might as well be her own imagination that she knew what Aedan was thinking about, and there really was no need to do anything that would scare him off, or offend him.

"Right. Right." He said, doing as she demanded. Ah, but to order handsome men around. It was one of the things Talia missed about High Rock. She let a small laugh escape her lips before sitting back up, crossing her legs before her as she started examining the tray of food. With her hood down, her boots off and the outer layers of her apprentice robes off, she was _very_ well aware of what Aedan was looking at. It wasn't the food.

She decided to pretend she didn't notice. Running a hand through her long, red hair, Talia grabbed a knife and started cutting up the cheese. A mischievous idea sprung up in her mind. Instead of just cutting the cheese and bread, she pretended to let the host do the cutting. A noble, after all, was supposed to be a gentleman.

"So, if I can ask, you mentioned you came here with two other friends who escaped before the templars caught you?" Aedan asked as he carved out the cheese. Talia accepted it, suddenly feeling a bit guilty that her friends were lost in the wilds, and she was sitting on a soft bed, eating cheese and contemplating enjoying a handsome man. _Aedra, what is wrong with me?_

"Brelyna and J'zargo." She nodded ;"Brelyna is a Dark Elf from Morrowind, from the House Telvanni. She's the bookish sort, really sweet and has a knack for conjuration magic. If you think Two-Sock is impressive, you should have seen what she pulled out in class." A small grin played on her lips as she remembered J'zargo moping at Brelyna's Frost atronach standing like a silent force of nature in the Hall of Elements. She could tell from Aedan's expression that he had no idea what she meant by 'Dark Elf' and 'Morrowind'. Still, she persisted;

"J'zargo is a Khajiit. I don't actually know _where_ he is from, come to think of it. Elsweyr, most likely. He's always going on about how he's going to be the greatest mage ever." She mused, her gaze idly wandering to where she'd received a nasty burn while testing out the cat's scrolls. It was a funnier memory than it had been an experience; "He's the talking cat, I mentioned earlier."

"Sounds like your homeland is a bit crazy, if you don't mind me saying." Aedan mused. Talia took a bite of the cheese, making an effort to make the bite as slow and sensual as possible. She once more pretended not to notice Aedan's eyes on her. This might not count the right way on her path to becoming a better person, but by Dibella's priestesses, it was entertaining.

"Oh, High Rock is normal enough. Every man and his sister is a mage of varying degree, and we have practically no history of famine or epidemics because of that. Skyrim though…" She said, taking a new bite. She let her lips play around the cheese before letting it disappear within. She could feel how the room became a bit more heated up. And, she could _hear_ Aedan's breathing; "…is in the middle of a civil war. The Empire on one side, the super-racists on the other."

"Super racists?" Aedan asked. It was clear his full attention was on her lips, but only half his attention was on her actual words. This was getting more and more entertaining. Talia took a new piece;

"Mmm. Ulfric Stormcloak hates Elves, Argonians, Khajiit, Orcs… everyone not a Nord, basically. Sad, really."

"There are elves in Skyrim?" This just stressed that his attention was somewhere else than her words, or he would remember she had mentioned Dark Elves.

"There are elves everywhere. Just different types." Talia explained, chewing on some roast meat. It was _too_ good to waste time on playing with; "The Bosmer are Wood elves. Decent enough people, but don't get killed by them, they're said to eat their enemies. There's the Dunmer, like Brelyna. I suppose they are fine too, unless you piss them off. Then, there's the real assholes of Tamriel."

"The Stormcloaks?"

"No, not… well, they _are_ assholes too. No, I'm talking about the High Elves, or the Thalmor." She said, eating another piece of the glorious meat he gave her. _That… could be misunderstood._

"_High_ elves? Funny, here the elves are usually like big children." Aedan mused. Talia grinned, imagining Ancano the height of Oren. Now thát, would be magic worthy of a book. I would be generally interesting to see if the elves of Ferelden were anything like those from Tamriel. Would they be snobbish, cannibalistic or sensitive to mentions of the cataclysmic disaster that struck their homeland? The last one really did require there to be Nords too, so she didn't give that one much chance.

"I'd like to see that at some point. Aside from the Thalmor, I really like elves." Talia smiled, locking eyes on the beverage Aedan had brought with him as well. It wasn't mead, she could smell that much. It smelled a lot more like…like ale. Aedan seemed to notice her shift in attention, or maybe he was just so focused on her eyes that he would see it instantly when she looked at something.

"I could show you, you know?" Aedan mused as he handed her a flagon, complete with a small lid on top; "We have some elven servants here on the castle, I'm sure they wouldn't mind some _positive_ attention for a change. What's so wrong about the Thalmor anyway?"

Talia took the flagon and did a small scoot towards Aedan. Just enough that it placed her closer. _Not _enough to be seen as a move of any sort; "I'll have to take you up on that offer, Aedan."

"So… ehm, the, the Thalmor?" Aedan said to remind her. It was adorable how he got visibly nervous when she was like this, on his bed and comfortable. Talia felt the warm, buzzing sensation build in her chest, and she could feel the start of lust, or something like it, mounting in her as she took a sip from the ale. _Damn… they could do business in Whiterun with this stuff._

"It all ties down to history, if that won't bore you?" She asked, slowly wiping some of the ale-foam from her lips. She pointedly allowed just a small bit to remain. She knew this game well. Aedan looked somewhere between uncomfortable and very, very comfortable. An odd combination, but not unusual in this situation.

Aedan's eyes were clearly struggling to avoid focusing on the bit of foam on her lips. It was highly amusing, and the longing she could see in his eyes was… appreciated. She hadn't thought it would be, but now she found that it was nice being seen as something other than a powerful mage with the ability to burn a man to a crisp in seven different ways, discounting the use of the environment and electricity. In the end, the handsome young man seemed to find his words again;

"I doubt you could bore me if you tried." He said, that _Mara-be-damned_ charming smile on his lips. The sincerity in his voice made something flutter in Talia's abdomen, and spread to a tingling sensation between her legs. Talia noticed the beginnings of a beard around those lips of his, darks outcroppings appearing. It made him look more masculine, if less cultivated. His eyes were still constantly going back to the foam on her lips; "You ehm… you have something."

Oh, how she loved this game.

"Huh?" She asked with as innocent an expression as she could muster. It was hard, not breaking into a grin.

"On your lips." Aedan said, vaguely pointing at her mouth. Talia did her best to seem confused. Two things could happen now, one of them would. Either he would try removing it, (and that would definitely be fun) or he would simply say where the foam was. Either way, she would enjoy this.

"What's on my lips?"

"You've got a bit of foam on your lips, Talia…" His voice was strained to remain calm and polite. Aedan was so polite and handsome and adorable, Talia wanted to just skip the whole 'playing with him' part. But no, the hunt was part of the prize, and the prize was important. So, hunt it was.

Even if the deer had practically dropped before her still-notched arrow.

"Where?" She tried licking where she _knew_ there wasn't anything. Aedan's eyes widened just a little; "I really don't feel anything."

"A bit higher." Oh, how his voice was starting to become husky. Talia knew _exactly_ what was going on in his mind, so now the hunt was all about making him think she wasn't aware in the slightest. So far, the night was looking to be _very_ promising. Her tongue went higher, but still not where the foam was. In the end, she knew he would catch on if she kept on missing.

And that would be too easy.

Talia ended the small game by simply letting her tongue travel in a slow, alluring circle on her lips. She managed to sweep away the foam, grinning as if she had just won a small victory. In a way, judging by Aedan's heavy breathing, she just had.

"There, got it." She smiled at him, propping herself up a bit closer. She could almost feel the warmth from his breath now, even though it was obvious he did his best to conceal it. She tried hiding a snicker when Aedan went so far as to hold his breath for a few seconds. Oh, how she enjoyed the reversal of sexual roles. She was the hunter, Aedan the hunted.

She wondered if he even realized this.

"Now, where was I?" She asked, looking into Aedan's warm eyes. They were the nicest shade of brown, she noticed, something she rarely saw in the Nords and Bretons she'd grown up with. Most there had blue or green eyes. Aedan blinked, seemingly at a loss for words while his brain caught up. Talia blew a huff of amusement. Aedan had the age, but he really was more boy than man. An extremely cute, hot and handsome boy.

"Thalmor?"

"Right." She mused; "See, it all started when the Empire of Tiber Septim was founded by Tiber Septim himself. Most of us call him Tiber Septim, but since he was a Nord, the Nords call him by his birth-name, which is Talos. When he died, the empire found it fitting that he was uplifted to the gods. That meant the Imperial pantheon went from eight to nine Divines."

"You can just uplift people into godhood?" Aedan sounded a bit taken aback, or maybe just confused. Either way, he had a good point.

"That's what happened, and Talos was officially the Imperial God of Warfare until the Thalmor invaded the Empire. When they did, the Emperor was forced to sign the White-Gold Concordat. It meant the survival of the Empire, but at the cost of worshipping Tiber Septim becoming outlawed."

"I can't imagine everyone just accepted _that_ one." Aedan mused, lying down on the bed as well. The food was apparently forgotten, in favor of relaxing on the bed. Talia enjoyed the relaxed attitude in him. Seeing Aedan on the bed as well, all focused on her, made warmth spread through her. There was an _urge_, like she wanted to just pounce on him. _Patience. Calm down, girl._

"Not really, no. A lot of people protested, but none as fiercely as the Nords." She smiled, almost giggled at how right Aedan was. There was just something _nice_ about being near him. She wanted to reach out and touch his muscled arms, but bit her lip and focused back on the story instead; "After the Forsworn in Skyrim, the province we come from, took the city of Markarth, Ulfric took it back with his private army of Stormcloaks and was in turn promised by the Jarl that he could continue worshipping Talos."

She half expected a comment from Aedan here. Instead, she found he was listening intently, eyes focused on her with such an intensity, it made her shiver with delight. She blew a strand of hair away, idly toying with her braid before continuing;

"Then, of course the Empire found out and by extension the Thalmor found out. The result was that the dung-heads sent their Justiciars to Skyrim." Talia muttered with barely suppressed annoyance. While she herself didn't worship Talos and saw no reason to do it, she despised the idea of arrogant elves running around Skyrim, taking people from their homes in the middle of their night. It wasn't peace, it was occupation.

"Justiciars?" Aedan frowned at the annoyed tone to her voice. At least it meant he was paying attention.

"Members of the Aldmeri Dominion who hunt down the people worshipping Talos. I've seen their patrols on the roads, once. Usually it's a few bodyguards and a Justiciar." Talia still remembered the smug bastard who'd come to the College, demanding Onmund overturned. Arch-mage Aren had more or less physically kicked the bastard the entire way across the bridge.

Faralda had made sure the rest of his bodyguards followed suit more or less willingly.

"So, they hunt what they see as heretics?" Aedan asked. Talia sighed, rolling onto her back. She wiggled her toes in the air, considering a response while noticing the way Aedan's eyes behaved when she moved.

"I guess. Still, they behave more like occupants than some sort of policing force. Pretty much everyone hates them, and I heard a rumor that the Dragonborn hunts their patrols." Oh, _that_ had caused much laughter in the dormitory. No one at the College knew who the Dragonborn actually _was_, but the rumor was the news of the day.

"What's _'the Dragonborn'?"_ Aedan asked with curiosity. Oh right, Aedan had no idea what a Dragonborn was. Probably didn't even know what a Dragon was. Talia bit her lip in thought;

"Well… you know what a Dragon is?" She asked, resting her head on her folded hands. She liked this. She had actually just seen this go the way of seducing Aedan, but he was a surprisingly pleasant partner in a conversation too. Handsome and intelligent was a mix that was far too rare.

"I do, yeah, of course. I've never seen one, of course, but thirty years ago there was a sighting of a High Dragon. That's when the current age started." Talia blinked a few times at what he'd said. _Thirty years?_

"…Okay. That is… disturbing alright. But, all dragons are believed to be the children of Akatosh, the dragon god of time in Tamriel. Sometimes, when something really amazing or world-changing happens, like the return of dragons, a Dragonborn is discovered." Talia didn't like the implications that dragons had been around for at least thirty years in Ferelden. It meant they'd had a place to rest and gather forces before returning to Tamriel. At least those not dead; "The Dragonborn is a mortal with the soul of a dragon. He's essentially the strongest warrior possible, because his soul and body is augmented by each dragon he kills."

Aedan blinked in confusion, then rubbed his forehead;

"My brain hurts…" He groaned. Talia giggled and ruffled his hair. It was spontaneous and not even planned. Still, she liked the feel of his hair in her hand; "You're…you're saying people can have the souls of dragons?"

She kept playing with his hair, completely enraptured by the way it seemed to stand against her touch, like it was alive. It was a dark mess of prickly strands, and yet she couldn't remove her hair even if she tried.

"Too much?" She mused, meaning both the 'Dragonborn' thing, and her hair on his head. Aedan removed his own hand from his forehead and looked at her. Talia could feel the heavy beating of her heart, desire mounting within her from the intensity his gaze. She felt her mouth go dry.

"…Talia?" Aedan whispered, almost as if he was afraid to speak too loudly. She focused her attention on him fully, blue eyes locked on his own brown ones.

"…Aedan?" She said back, her voice starting to grow husky as well. _Oh, just get on with it, you adorable bastard. _She wanted to pounce on him, to eat him alive. The way he looked at her, the way his breathing grew heavy and ragged, something she knew was due to her presence was utterly intoxicating.

Aedan didn't speak. Talia raised a brow as one of his hands gently rested on the back of her head, running through her red hair with a care almost as if he was afraid of breaking something. _So, he figured it out. Good._

"Talia, I…" Aedan tried, even as his hand caressed her cheek. Talia could feel her skin heat to his touch, wanting him to continue. No one had showed her this kind of affection for years. She had missed it. She planted a finger on his lips, bringing him to silence.

"Aedan?" She breathed. Her heart was beating fast, her skin tingling with desire for the man whose bed she was in; "Do you want to continue the history-lesson?" She asked while a hungry grin spread over her lips. Aedan breathed harder, moving a little closer. He was close enough now, that Talia could feel the warmth of his breath. She propped herself up on an elbow, coming face to face with Aedan. She could see the small droplets of sweat running down his cheek, and see the lust in his eyes, as well as the nervousness.

"…I… I don't know if…Talia…" He stuttered hoarsely. Talia smiled warmly, feeling his breath on her face, tasting it by licking her lips. A low groan rose in his breathing, and she knew he was lost. Utterly, completely lost.

"Aedan… do you like me?" She whispered, lips so close to his she could have touched them with the tip of her tongue. The mounting desire in her body made her feel strangely weak, unable to fully control her own body. She could already feel the way her abdomen seemed to yearn for him. It was unsettling, in a way, how Aedan could affect her like this.

"I… I think…I…I do." He replied. Talia giggled and leaned forward, pressing her soft lips against his.

The reaction was sudden, but not altogether hard to understand. When she kissed him, Talia could feel the groan of rising desire in her body, screaming to be unleashed in a storm. Aedan's lips were dry, and her own tongue shot forward the moment he responded to her kiss, caressing his lips. When she opened her eyes, she saw Aedan's were both still wide-open and full of surprise and desire. She wanted to engulf him, to fully enjoy the man now with her.

Turk jumped from his basket, barking even before he reached the door.

* * *

**I decided to split this chapter into two chapters instead. This was just a scene I felt needed to stand alone.**


	5. Talia's oath

**So, seems like Turk thingy-blocked the two of them, eh?**

**Regardless, let us press on and see what transpires on Castle Cousland. When we last left off, Talia had just managed to start... _persuading_ Aedan to join the Grey Wardens, when Turk started barking. The night can only go well, right? I mean, what on Nirn could go wrong on a castle with guards and a visiting arl and all that? It's not like Duncan brings death whereever he goes, is it? *checks origins of all Wardens***

**...oh. Well, so maybe he does. Still, a night to remember, no?**

* * *

Let the blade pass through the flesh,

Let my blood touch the ground,

Let my cries touch their hearts.

Let mine be the last sacrifice.

_Andraste 7:12_

* * *

**Talia's oath**

* * *

The sudden noise from the Mabari caused the two on the bed to snap about, Aedan's eyes still filled with the desire Talia wanted from him. Needed from him. She glared at the dog, promising to incinerate the beast for disrupting them.

Two-Sock joined Turk, growing and barking at the door. That was when Talia's eyes widened with something else than lust and desire. She didn't know anything about how intelligent Mabari-hounds were, but she knew Two-Sock's intelligence was on par with that of humans. Two-Sock _never_ made noise inside unless something was wrong.

And now he was snarling and growling at the door.

She was out of the bed in an instant, ignoring the cold of the stone-floor beneath her bare feet. Unknowingly mirroring Aedan, she kneeled by her four-legged companion, grabbing him firmly in the loose skin behind his ears.

"What is it, what's wrong boy?" Talia looked from Two-Sock's eyes to the door. Now that her senses were no longer obscured by the beating of her own heart and desire for the opposite sex, Talia could hear noise from outside the room.

"Something's wrong." Aedan said. Talia glanced at him the same moment he looked at her. His eyes were alert and something akin to panic was emerging in them. Someone screamed out in the hallway, and the sound of metal on metal and metal on wood, furniture crashing, could be heard.

They were the sounds of fighting.

"Shit!" Talia exclaimed, fishing out her boots. Fighting meant running, and the time she spent hauling on her boots would be well-spent if it meant staying out of reach of swords; "Aedan, get your armor on, people are fighting out there!"

At the same moment, there was heavy knocking on the door. Talia was at the door before Aedan could move more than a foot towards it. Not even stopping to think, Talia ripped the door open. Her eyes widened in fear.

She was face to face with a crossbow. The man holding it was glaring at her, a bolt already notched in the weapon. Talia didn't even think, instead moving low and beneath the point of the weapon even as it was fired. The bolt flew through her flurrying hair, even as her palms caught fire and she poured flames into the armor of the soldier. Behind her, Aedan yelled in surprise as the bolt barely missed his arm.

The man caught fire and screamed, running away from the door while desperately trying to put out the flames. Meanwhile, another soldier was charging towards her, sword and shield ready to strike her down. Talia's eyes widened in fear.

She was roughly yanked back by Aedan, who tackled the attacking soldier with an armored shoulder. The man dropped his sword as the wind got knocked out of him, which only made it all the easier for Aedan to send his broadsword down through the soldier's armored shoulder, splitting him open from the weak joint.

"Maker in Heaven…" Aedan breathed as Two-Sock pounced on the still burning soldier, now writhing on the ground. Then, his eyes widened; "Oh Andraste! Oren and Oriana!"

Talia followed where he looked, and saw the door to Aedan's nephew and sister-in-law wide open. By the time she had recognized the fact that no sound came from within, Aedan had already sped past her and entered the room. Before she could react, Aedan stumbled backwards out of the room, his face white as a sheet. _Oh gods, oh gods, not again!_

She rushed to where he fell on the floor, pointedly _not_ looking into the room. Instead she pushed the door closed with her foot and knelt beside Aedan. He was trembling, his breathing ragged and his eyes wide and disbelieving from fear. Before she could speak, Aedan vomited on the floor before him.

"More over there!" Whatever words she would have said to console Aedan were interrupted when more soldiers with drawn sword, splattered in fresh blood, came running through an open doorway. Talia snapped a glance at Aedan._ He's in shock. Damn it all, I have- _we_ have to get out of here!_

"Where is the Teyrn? Tell us!"

"Shit, it's that Warden recruit." One of the soldiers said to his comrade.

"She's a witness. Kill her." the leader of the soldiers ordered. Talia could feel her entire body shake with anger and indignation. These men, no, not men- _beasts -_ had murdered Oren and Oriana. The sweet little boy who wanted to pet Two-Sock and own a '_sward'_. Brutally murdered by soldiers. And just where had they even come from?

_Doesn't matter. They DIE!_

She could never bring back Onmund. She couldn't bring Oren or Oriana back to life, much as she wanted to. She couldn't turn back time, and she couldn't save her friends in the wilderness. But by every single pantheon, she could kill these murderous _pigs_.

As the first soldier ran forward, she unleashed her powers against him. Both palms spread outwards, she hit him with fire and lightning. The flames cooked the man in his armor, even as the lightning arched and jumped between the sacks of water and metal standing behind him. All screamed as magic overwhelmed them with raw pain and agony. Even as flesh fell from the first man in singed chunks of tissue, and those behind him writhed in pain on the ground, Talia made sure to stand between _it_ and Aedan. She wanted to kill, _kill_ and _maim_ and _hurt,_ but she wanted to spare him as well.

The men on the floor were begging for a release. Begging for mercy, be it death or no. But Talia was cold to their begging, and as she helped Aedan stand and walk, she stepped on those she could, making sure their last moments would be as tormented as possible. Child murderers deserved _nothing_ less.

As they rounded the same open doorway the soldiers had come through, Talia and Aedan saw more soldiers trying to break through the door leading to the Teyrn's chambers. Aedan stiffened as the soldiers turned to draw their blades at them. _His parents might be in there._

Aedan surged forward, his sword and shield raised to deliver a killing blow to the first man. Talia was forced to shift her attention when the soldier's comrade went for her instead. She leapt back, gasping as the blade ripped through her clothing and her skin. The pain was sharp, but the wound wasn't deep. She still grimaced in pain, clutching her side while casting flames at the man before her. As opposed to the others, he protected himself with his shield, pressing forward even as Talia could feel her magical reserves starting to run low.

Aedan's Mabari came to her rescue, pouncing on the soldier from behind. The man was brought crashing to the floor, his groan of pain swiftly changing into howls and screams of panic and agony as Turk ripped his throat open from behind, covering the tiles with blood and fragments of bone. Talia snapped to search for Aedan. The young Cousland was busy putting his sword through his opponent, foot planted on the man's chest as he turned the blade through the soldier's innards.

The door before them ripped open, revealing Aedan's mother, Eleanor Cousland, in a set of armor much like the ones worn by the soldiers, only distinctly female in design. Her eyes widened immediately at the sight of her son covered in human blood;

"Aedan! I heard fighting and screams and I feared the worst! Are you hurt?" She seemed almost afraid and desperate to touch her son at the same time. Talia winced, trying not to think about what the woman would say, how she would react when she found Oren and Oriana. Instead, she turned her eyes away from Aedan and his mother, and examined her wound. Both the robe and skin on her upper waist had been cut, and blood ran in a thin trickle from the straight wound. Talia found the strange gratefulness in that the swine before her on the ground had at least used a decent weapon.

"We need to check on Oren and Oriana!" the Teyrna exclaimed. She was already moving towards the now-shut door when Talia took her shoulder. She wanted to spare the woman the horror seeing her grandchild and daughter-in-law dead would bring.

"Teyrna…they…" she began. The words died in her throat as she tried to speak them. How could she even word them? To say that those soldiers had slaughtered innocent women and children, Talia herself wanted to believe it a cruel joke and a lie.

"Howe's men killed them." Aedan's voice was clipped short and dry, like he was about to break if he said too much. Eleanor ripped free of Talia's hand, running for the door to Oren's room. Talia, instead of trying to stop the woman, looked at Aedan. He was trembling, his mouth open in some word that had died before spoken. Talia wanted to do something, anything to make this all a lie, but nothing was done before they heard the Teyrna scream. _She's seen them._

"NO! My little Oren!" the woman fell to her knees; "What manner of fiends slaughters innocents?!"

"We need to find father and get out of here." Aedan's voice was dry and bereft of emotions, yet betraying the fact that he was on the verge of breaking down as well. Talia turned to him while helping him get his mother back on her feet. The woman's eyes were streaming with tears, but she didn't make a sound apart from the single outburst.

"Who is attacking, I thought there were plenty of soldiers here!" Talia exclaimed, looking at Aedan. He squared his jaw, cheeks reddening with anger;

_"Howe!_ Arl Howe, that _bastard!_ He waited for our troops to leave before betraying us all!" Anger, _wrath_ of the kind Aedan was radiating, was scary to be around. Talia let go of his mother and conjured Two-Sock back to her. He'd been slain at some point during the first fights.

"Find the Teyrn, find him!" Talia yelled to the Familiar. Two-Sock whined and angled his head before barking, sprinting towards the closed door leading to the rest of the Castle, Turk only a tail's length behind him.

Without waiting for anyone to actually open the door, Turk rammed it, his massive, muscled built throwing the wooden door outwards. It fell down the sloped entrance and stopped when it hit a dead Cousland guard. Now outside, Talia could hear fighting all around them, with barking dogs and the clashing of steel.

"Can you hear the fighting? Howe's men must be everywhere!" Eleanor exclaimed. Talia looked around them, and to the skies, seeing the bright red of fire painted on the dark night. _This place is going to fall if we're all that's left. Where the HELL is Duncan?!_

The small fear that he was dead, was quickly stomped out like a misbehaving flame.

"Mother, I don't want you in danger." Aedan exclaimed. Talia understood his intentions, and respected them, but if Howe's men were indeed everywhere, they would need to kill their way through to whatever victory or safety was to be found._ Gods I hate being the only one to think clearly!_

"My only grandchild is a ravaged corpse! I don't _care_ about danger!" Eleanor exclaimed. Talia looked at the woman and realized tears had never stopped flowing since she found her grandchild dead. Something had broken inside the Teyrna; "The front gates, that's where your father must be!"

"I'll _kill_ Howe for this!" Aedan growled, hands tightening on the grip of his sword. Eleanor put her hands on his shoulders, something even Talia noticed as a sign of desperation;

_"Listen,_ son. If we can't find your father at the front gates, you _must_ get out of here alive. Without you and Fergus, the Cousland line dies here!" The teyrna pleaded. Talia's heart ached at the pain and fear in Eleanor's voice; "If Howe's men are inside, they must already control the castle! Use the servants' entrance in the larder to escape. Do you hear me?"

"I- I do, but we're _not_ running without father." Aedan exclaimed, taking off. When he was a few meters ahead, Eleanor grabbed Talia with strength surprising for a woman her age.

"If Bryce and I die here, you _have_ to get my son to safety. I beg you, Talia, promise me you'll get him out alive." Talia was taken aback at the determination in her words. _She… she knows she's going to die here. She knows, and she… _Talia swallowed and nodded. If Duncan was dead, Talia would get Aedan out by herself.

"Thank you." Eleanor breathed, following Aedan around the corner. As they came down a slope towards a broader corridor, one of the servants came running past them. He noticed, and stopped;

"The castle has fallen! I'm getting out of here!" He yelled, his eyes wide in raw panic. No one seemed to notice that the servant was naked as the day he was born.

"Don't run you coward, stand and fight!" Aedan yelled, seemingly having failed to notice the fact that the servant was unarmed as well. It turned out not to make any difference in the end, as the servant's throat was pierced from behind by an arrow. The man fell to the ground, choking on his own blood as more of Howe's soldiers came from around the corner to the right.

"The Couslands will not fall to the likes of you!" the teyrna yelled, charging the enemy soldiers with her only weapons being a pair of long daggers. Aedan was right beside her, while Talia set Two-Sock loose from a distance and instead flung a spike of ice into the side of a Howe soldier. The magical ice speared through the man's splintmail armor, ravaging his guts and allowing the man's intestines to flow out before he even realized he was dead.

When the man fell, his comrades took notice, and two of them shifted to target Talia instead of the Couslands. To make it worse, more soldiers were now coming from behind Talia as well. _Shit and Piss! I didn't even check for more!_

Biting her lip in frustration, Talia turned on the spot, hoping someone else would take care of the soldiers now behind her before she was stabbed in the back. It felt good, in a way, being back in a situation where she was allowed to kill every person she saw. And yet, she was scared. The close encounter by the chambers had proven a point that she was just as vulnerable as anyone else, magic or not.

There were far too many of the soldiers for her to kill on her own, and she couldn't even look back to see how Aedan was doing. Losing concentration would kill her, she knew. Talia couldn't kill them, but by Magnus' wrath she could damn well slow them down. Onmund was always the better ice-mage, but she still knew how to do it.

Clenching her fists in frustration, Talia brought up what magica she had left, and flung it at the soldiers in the form of an ice-storm. It was far weaker than what Onmund could have made, she knew, but it still served its purpose in staggering the soldiers, and caused some to completely stop as their feet froze to the ground, or their entire bodies were encased in ice. More than a few remained able to move though, and resumed their run at her as soon as they seemed to shake the cold.

Her eyes wide with fear, Talia moved backwards, pouring what scraps of magic was left in her systems. She cursed the fact that she couldn't use Two-Sock to give her enough time to bottom-up a potion, and even more so that she didn't even _have_ a potion on her. The men still seemed to move slowly, but would catch her the moment she ran out of places to retreat to. Those of their comrades frozen only by their feet, were already hacking themselves free. _Oh no, no!_

"Get _away_ from me you bastards!" she yelled, trying to send electricity into them. Nothing but small sparks came from her hands, and Talia was forced to duck under the blade that would have otherwise looped her head from her shoulders. Instead, she was kicked in the chest by an armored boot and floored. Her vision came back almost instantly, just in time to see the soldier above her send his blade downwards.

It never connected. Two-Sock pounced on the man with barred teeth, ripping through the chainmail protecting his arm, then through the arm itself. The soldier screamed and fell backwards, his right arm a mangled mess, while Two-Sock placed itself between the soldiers and Talia, snarling with the hairs on his back standing. As Talia picked herself up, she thought about how scary a regular, snarling wolf was supposed to be. Now those soldiers faced an ethereal wolf half again as big as an actual wolf. There was grim humor to be found in the way the soldiers tried surrounding Two-Sock instead of risking him head-on.

An arrow caught one of the soldiers in the helm, knocking him forward as the tip went straight through, covered with blood and brains. The distraction was enough for Talia to leap away, even as Two-Sock pounced the closest soldier, ripping into the man before his comrades could process what had happened. Talia was confused too, as she hadn't seen neither Aedan nor his mother carry a bow.

The answer, as well as Aedan cutting through the soldiers alongside Two-Sock and Turk, came when Talia looked to where the first group of Howe soldiers had been. Eleanor was heading towards her, along with a pair of guards armored and marked with the sigil of Cousland. _Finally. Help._

As Aedan, Two-Sock, Turk and the guards made short work of the remaining soldiers, including the ones still frozen, Eleanor helped Talia to her feet. Talia didn't even bother processing the fact that the Teyrna was covered in blood and missing a finger. It all just flowed together due to the fact that Talia more or less likely was suffering from a concussion. It happened, she supposed, when one hit one's head against a wall of stone.

"Lady Teyrna, where's the Teyrn, does he live?" One of the guards asked as he returned from the business of killing those still frozen. Talia glanced over and saw Aedan impale one of the trapped soldiers through the stomach, spilling his blood and innards onto the ground. The man couldn't even scream, as the ice covered his face as well. There was only the silence as the man was drained, a corpse standing.

"I don't know. If he lives, he'll most likely be by the front gates. We should make our way there." Eleanor replied as she let go of Talia. Talia leaned against the wall, trying to make the world make sense again while spending what little magica she could recover on healing her head. She would be no good in a fight if she couldn't even walk a straight line. _I feel like J'zargo gave me something… strong. Only, I don't feel like that buzzing in my belly and… I need to clear up._

Shaking her head, Talia breathed and pushed what healing she could into her head. She chose to ignore what wounds and scrapes she had gotten in the fights, instead bathing her head in golden light. Eleanor and the guards glanced in surprise, but said nothing. A mage was anything but unwelcome now, Talia knew.

With the additional manpower, it was more doable to fight through Howe's forces. Aedan and the guards would take the brunt while his mother, who was remarkably quick on her feet, seemed to vanish and reappear behind the soldiers, sinking her blades into their exposed backs before suddenly being where she had been before. Talia attributed what she saw to the lingering concussion. She herself would stay back with Two-Sock, pelting whatever heads she could hit with spikes of ice or bolts of flame. Mostly those in the background though, she didn't want to risk hitting Eleanor or Aedan, nor any of the guards of course.

As it turned out, the two guards had fought their way out of the Cousland treasury, and had brought with them the artefacts of the Cousland line. As soon as the fighting seemed to die down, they overturned a sword and shield to Aedan. Talia was surprised at the speed with which he discarded his own weapons in favor of the new ones, but decided not to ask. Now wasn't the time.

Their progress towards the gates ended up blocked by a wall of flame and debris from one of the towers having collapsed. Talia wasn't sure how, and she wasn't about to waste time trying to make a way through.

"We need to go the main hall then. That's the only other way to the gates, and Bryce might be there." Eleanor stated, effectively ordering the group to turn around. Talia nodded, repressing the wince her injuries brought her. She would heal later, she thought. Right now, she needed to be able to kill the first man she came across not carrying the Cousland sigil.

The only entrance to the main hall, that didn't require they took a long detour around the building, was a locked door. Talia didn't even waste time thinking about _why_ the door was locked, before she blasted in the lock with a bolt of flame. Inside, was chaos.

Heavily armored guards were trying desperately to beat back the attacking Howe soldiers, even when they were heavily outnumbered. Talia's first impression of the fight was seeing a guard stick his sword in the chest of one soldier, where after three new soldiers jumped the guard and killed him. She then saw a redheaded man, the same who had poked his head into the library earlier, loop the head off one soldier before kicking another to the ground, then slam his shield into the face of a third.

"Teyrna! I am glad to see you still live!" He called, blocking an axe meant for his skull. It split his shield to bits, and lodged the axe in the shield's metallic handle.

"Ser Gilmore! Where is my husband?!" Eleanor yelled as she threw herself into the fight. Talia blinked twice, realizing that Ser Gilmore was the redheaded man, who had now yanked the axe out of the soldier's hands before splitting the man's skull with his own weapon. Talia was starting to see why Duncan had come for him as well. She decided to wait until _after_ the fight to make those comments, and instead started flinging magic at the soldiers trying to overwhelm Aedan. _They are _not_ getting you! Daedra take me, I will not have it!_

A soldier was about to cut down from behind Aedan, his sword lifted and ready to strike. Then, his hands were frozen into solid ice and shattered when Two-Sock pounced on him. Talia smirked, delighting in the chance to strike back and be free to kill those who betrayed and murdered innocents. And in the middle of a blasted war with evil itself? Who was the idiot commanding those people?

Right. Howe. That meant the purple, lesser noble she had seen upon arriving. Hard to imagine the guy being a dirty, traitorous… _actually...he would fit in well in High Rock._

The fight ended when Aedan beheaded the last of Howe's soldiers. Even as the body tumbled to the ground, Ser Gilmore ordered the surviving guards to the gates.

"Don't let those bastards through." He barked, out of breath. He then focused on Aedan and Eleanor; "Your lordship, my lady, you're both alive. I was certain Howe's men had gotten through."

Talia chose to ignore the fact that he had overlooked her. This was far too important to let personal pride come into the picture. Even if she had kicked ass. Because she had. Still…

"They _did_ get through." She muttered, kicking a dead soldier in the head.

"Have you seen my father?" Aedan demanded. His voice was wrecked with desperation and anger, something Talia could understand well. His home was being attacked and his father might be dead. He had every reason to be at his wits' end.

"He was looking for the two of you, told me to hold the hall as long as possible." Ser Gilmore said, wincing as an injury forced him to hold his side. Eleanor looked to her, and Talia could feel a pleading in her eyes.

"Ser Gilmore, you are _hurt_. Talia, can you do anything for him?" Talia's respect for the teyrna rose a notch. Even when her husband might be dead or dying, she still took care of the people serving her. Still, Talia was forced to do a helpless toss of her shoulders. She'd never been a healer;

"…I…don't know. I've never really healed _anyone_." Still, she could try; "But… hold still. I can try."

In theory, it should be easy enough. Healing another body just meant she had to transfer the life-energy into him via her hands, instead of letting it stay in her own body. It meant, she had to let the energy pass through her skin with no chance of getting the energy back. _Piss, I should actually have taken that bloody course._

She planted her hands on Ser Gilmore's most prominent wound, a gash across his chest, and focused. Magic was in her blood, in every vein and strand of tissue and muscle. It was as much a part of her as her skin or nails. Magic, _was_ her. And she controlled it. She willed the life-energies in her body to spread, warmth following through her arms, into the tips of her fingers. Then, it stopped. Talia grimaced, frustrated that she couldn't get the healing energy to leap the boundaries of bodies and heal Ser Gilmore. Meanwhile, the knight was debriefed by Aedan;

"Where is the other Grey Warden, Duncan?" Aedan asked. Talia felt a bit of regret, having barely thought of her de facto leader for the entire day. He could be dead, for all she knew.

"I've no idea. You don't think _he_ could be involved in all of this, do you? No offense intended, Warden Talia." Ser Gilmore bit out through a wince as his breathing seemed to trouble him. A broken rib, then. Talia chewed her cheek and huffed in frustration;

"None taken, Gilmore. Just stand still, for the love of-"

"Perhaps he… was sent to kill Bryce? Oh dear… have you seen him?" Eleanor exclaimed. Talia's frown grew in annoyance;

"Duncan is an old fart, but he isn't a murderer. I'd have known if he was here to assassinate someone." She stated. Because honestly, the words '_raised with nobles'_ really should tell them a few things. Talia bet if she'd had a chance to interact with Howe, she might have figured tha bastard out somehow. Still, no use crying over spilt mead. Things were as they were.

"When I last saw the Teyrn, he'd been badly wounded." Gilmore said; "I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchen, I assume he expected to find you by the servants' exit in the larder." Gilmore pointed at the door, unwittingly stretching his would which caused him to wince in pain.

"Stand _still_, I said. Do people in these lands know nothing of how to stand still? It's pretty damn easy." Talia grunted as she started forcing the energy out through the tips of her fingers. This would have been _so_ much easier to do had she had a spellbook to go through.

"I apologize, my lady. I will endeavor to _not_ moving." Gilmore said, the dry humor escaping through clenched teeth.

"Who'd have known you people possessed gallows-humor…" Talia muttered to herself as she started forcing more and more healing energies through her fingers. She pointedly bit through the pain as the transferred life-force caused her skin to rupture at the tips. She just needed to heal this guy, then she could work out the kinks later.

"There. Done. It's about all I can do without falling over again. Don't go getting wounded straight away, it'd be an insult to my trying to learn healing." Talia said, dusting her hands off as she stepped back. Gilmore nodded, promising he would _endeavor _to obey her commands.

"Bless you, Ser Gilmore. Maker watch over you." Eleanor said. Talia caught the unsaid words in the Teyrna's prayer. That Gilmore would likely die soon. The way a battering ram was punishing the large door, Howe's men would breach the room soon, with our without Gilmore holding them back.

"Maker, watch over us all." The knight agreed, then turned and started for the large door. Talia grabbed him by the wrist.

"You'll die if you stay here." She muttered, even as the others probably wondered why she had stopped. Gilmore looked at her with sad eyes, causing pain to flare in her heart; "…and you know this?"

"If it will buy the time you need to escape, my death is not in vain." He said as she released his wrist. Men behind him were groaning in desperation, even as the wood started to creak and crack under the strain.

"You're a brave man, Ser Gilmore." Talia muttered with respect. She didn't intend for him to actually hear her words, as he was halfway back to the door, but he did. He turned and gave her a sad smile;

"And you are a good person, Warden Talia. Please, take care of them. Aedan in particular, I fear will soon-"

"Ser Gilmore! They are breaking through! We can't hold the sodding door alone!" A guard yelled at the door. Gilmore glanced at the guard, then back to Talia;

"Good luck." And he was off, making for the massive doors undoubtedly just waiting to break and allow Howe's men to pour through. Talia groaned even as Aedan kicked open the locked door leading outside to the corridors. The door flew off its hinges, hitting a Howe soldier in the face.

The impact broke the man's nose, sending him reeling backwards down the slope. One trip, and he was tumbling down until he hit the bottom with a clatter of armor. Neither Talia, nor any Cousland present wasted a moment, but moved down the slope towards the fallen attacker. Eleanor reached him first, plunging her blades into his spine. The man's screams lasted for a few seconds, then became hoarse gasps of pain. He was still alive when Eleanor got back up, and they left him like that.

They encountered no further Howe soldiers on their way to the kitchen, something Talia refused to see as a positive thing. It likely meant more were ready to attack Ser Gilmore. The man was brave, and loyal. There was no denying that, in Talia's eyes. That his loyalty bordered on madness wasn't demoting his bravery in any way. When they reached the kitchens, Talia was proven correct in that the lack of soldiers wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"Maker, no!" Aedan fell to his knees, pushing the body of an older woman; "Please, Nan! Not you too…" When Eleanor placed her hand on his shoulder, Aedan wiped his tears away and stood. His home was burning around him, his friends dying and his apparent childhood nanny was dead before his feet. Talia had considered her own situation a plight and a tragedy, but it paled compared to what Aedan and his family was going through before her eyes.

Turk scratched the door to the larder. Talia picked up on that, as did the rest of the group. Eleanor was the first, forcing the door open with a desperate haste. Talia piled in as the last, having taken up something akin to the support of the group. She almost bumped into Aedan's back when he stopped abruptly, then broke into a run towards the other end of the room. When Talia entered, she saw the reason._ Divines…damn it all to Oblivion!_

"…wondering when you'd get here..." The Teyrn was on the ground, sitting in a pool of his own blood. The Teyrna and Aedan knelt next to him, the latter seemingly too shocked to speak. Talia knew a dying man when she saw one, and there was nothing she could do to help Bryce, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Maker's blood! You're bleeding, what happened?" Eleanor exclaimed, grabbing her husband by the shoulders.

"Howe's men…" the Teyrn coughed; "…found me first. Almost… did me in, right here."

"We need to get you out of here." Talia said. She knew the Teyrn was most likely minutes from death, but she had promised Ser Gilmore that she would protect Aedan and his family. She had to try. The teyrn offered her a weak groan before speaking;

"I… won't survive the standing, I think…" The Teyrn's voice was on the verge of tears. Aedan seemed to be utterly lost;

"That's not true! You'll be fine!" He yelled, tears flowing from his eyes. Talia wanted to hug him. Not an hour ago, she had wanted to mount him, but now her heart was bleeding for him, for what he was now going to lose. Talia had never known the pain of losing family. Onmund was the only one close to her to have ever died, and while she would have vengeance for his death, it could never compare to this.

"Oh, my dear boy… If only will could make it so…" The teyrn now cried, his wife holding him joining in the tears. Talia could only watch as Aedan's world collapsed around him.

"Howe's men will soon breach the gates. They will find us, we must go." Eleanor said. It was clear in her voice that she wanted her husband with them.

"Someone… must reach Fergus… Tell him what happened." The Teyrn seemed to be at his last straws. Talia knew she couldn't save him. She knew, in a few minutes the man would be too weak to talk. Moving around the horrified Aedan and his mother, Talia tried finding the most serious wounds. She might be able to stall the bleeding, somehow. Bryce, out of nowhere in Talia's mind, pushed her hands away with what strength he had left; "No… don't waste… it on me."

He knew too, then.

"You can tell him yourself!" Aedan snapped, moving to haul his dad to his feet. Talia found herself being the one who stopped him, while the Teyrn spoke;

"I wish… I could." He groaned. Blood poured from his lips in a single, thin line. Lungs too, then. Talia's fist clenched in frustration at not being able to save Aedan's father. She could heal cuts, maybe even a broken bone if given time. But a broken lung, it was too much for her to handle.

"Bryce no! The servants' tunnel is right here. We can flee together, find you more healing magic!" Eleanor pleaded. Talia wanted to step back and let them be alone, but she also wanted to hug them all and make the pain go away. Had she really come to care for people she hadn't even known for a full day?

The pain in her heart told her yes.

"The castle… is surrounded. I cannot make it." Bryce pressed out, even as the stream of blood over his lips grew a little thicker with each breath. Talia, standing the closest to the door, was the first to hear the sound of armored boots walking towards them. She snapped around, one hand lit with fire, the other shining with ice, when she saw…

"Duncan?" Her hands fell to her sides as the Warden-Commander entered the room, sheeting his swords. The man was covered in blood and scrapes, and Talia had never been more glad to see him in their short time together.

"I am glad to see you are unharmed, Talia, but I am afraid the Teyrn is correct. Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult." Duncan said, kneeling next to the Couslands. Talia remained standing next to him, wanting Duncan to just take charge and make everything better. Eleanor turned to look at him;

"You are… Duncan, then. The other Grey Warden?"

"Yes, your ladyship." Duncan said; "The Teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner."

"My son and Talia helped me get here, Maker be praised." Talia almost felt like she was mocking Eleanor's god by being praised, but said nothing. Now wasn't a time for words of any kind she could muster. Duncan looked between the two of them. There was a small, relieved smile on his lips when he regarded Talia;

"I am not surprised." The way he said it held pride. Talia wasn't entire sure what he was proud of, or whom, but didn't really care at this point. She wanted everyone to survive, even if she knew in her heart that everyone wouldn't.

"Duncan, I beg of you… Save my wife and son. Get them out of here!" The teyrn begged, even as he coughed out blood. A droplet hit Aedan's face, but he didn't even seem to react to it.

"I will, your lordship. But… I fear I must ask something in return." Duncan said. There was something heavy in his voice, like he loathed the words escaping his mouth. Talia hadn't heard that before.

"Anything!"

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world." Duncan started. Talia could see on Eleanor's greying face that she too had realized what Duncan meant to say; "I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The Darkspawn threat _demands_ I leave with one."

"I… I understand." Bryce said, his voice so weak that Talia had to strain her hearing to understand him. Aedan looked like he was going to throw up again, but held his mouth and spoke, if in stutters;

"Wha- what about Ser Gilmore?"

"Truthfully, _you_ were always my first choice." Duncan said. Talia would have wanted to revel in knowing she had figured Duncan out, if it hadn't been for everything that had happened; "I will take the teyrna and your son to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the King what happened. Then, your son will join the Grey Wardens."

So, this was the recruiting part then? It seemed unfair, to Talia, that Duncan would bargain like this, demand Aedan as a Grey Warden in return for his and his mother's lives. Talia bit her lip and remained silent, even though she didn't like what was going to happen, it wasn't something she could change. Bryce Cousland was dying, there was no way around that. Now, all they could do was to get Aedan and Eleanor to Ostagar and his brother, fight the Blight and come back to kill Howe in terrible ways. Talia was glad she had refused to look into Oren and Oriana's room, but she still had the image of Aedan's pale face, and Eleanor's screams seared into her mind.

"So long as justice comes to Howe… I agree." Bryce spoke in a renewed strength of voice, which caused him to cough up more blood. Duncan turned to a pale, shaking Aedan;

"Then I offer you a place among the Grey Wardens. Fight with us."

"But what if Fergus is dead?" Aedan choked out.

"We will inform the king, and _he_ will punish Howe." Duncan said. There was a tone to his voice, something Talia couldn't put her finger on; "I am sorry, but Grey Wardens' duties take precedence even over vengeance."

"Howe thinks he'll use the chaos… and advance himself. Make him_ wrong_, Pup. See that justice is done. Our family…" Bryce coughed up more blood, his lips smeared with thick, red liquids. Talia winced and wanted to look away, but only ended up looking at the pale, trembling Aedan who was doing his best not to break down completely. _His life is in ruins, and we're taking advantage of it…_

The thought left a disgusting bile in her mouth, and Turk whined next to his master.

"…We always do our duty first." Bryce continued; "The Darkspawn _must_ be defeated. You must go, for your own sake, and Ferelden's."

"I… I _can't_ leave you here!" Aedan cried. He was breaking down, Talia could see it, and knew Duncan could as well; "Please, dad!"

"We must leave quickly, Aedan. Howe's men will breach the gates soon, and we will not be safe here." Duncan said, trying no doubt to calm Aedan down. He might as well have attempted to tame an Ice wolf, Talia bit down on her own bitterness. This wasn't how anything humane or decent was supposed to go. She cursed whatever Daedra or Divine was playing its hand in this, forcing Aedan to leave his father to die.

"You must not die of Howe's treachery, Aedan. You are my son, you are my bel…belo…" Talia watched in silent horror as Aedan's father succumbed to another bloody cough. Eleanor wiped the blood from his face before he gathered enough breath to speak; "My beloved son. You _will_ escape, you _must_ live, and make your mark on the world."

Talia could feel tears pressing behind her eyes, but forced them down. She had no right to cry now, when Aedan was managing to keep his tears silent. This was _his_ family, not hers. Her own family was warm and safe in High Rock, not bleeding out on a cold stone floor. This would be the lowest point yet in her stay in Ferelden, it seemed. Watching a mother and son being forced to leave behind their husband and father.

Of course, it seemed the world could always top itself in cruelty.

"Darling, go with them." Eleanor said. The world seemed to freeze around her, as Talia processed the words and what they meant. No, no she couldn't be serious. Could she? Eleanor couldn't mean to actually leave her son to remain with her dying husband; "You will have a better chance of escaping without me."

"Eleanor…" Bryce coughed, seemingly just as horrified by the prospect of the teyrna staying behind as Aedan. This, was what seemed to be the last straw for the young man. Aedan collapsed on the ground, eyes swollen and streaming with tears as his mouth seemed unable to produce words.

"I won't abandon you, Love. I'll kill every bastard who sets foot through that door, but I won't abandon you." Eleanor declared, then grabbed her broken son by his shoulders and hugged him fiercely; "My place is with your father, at his side, to death and beyond. My dear son, you have to escape. Please, my heart would die if you remained to… to…"

"I'm… so sorry, it's… come to this, my love." Bryce wept, bleeding from his lips with every word. Eleanor embraced him, even as her fingers were coated in his blood, she didn't seem to notice;

"We had a good life, and did all we could. It's up to our children, now." Eleanor whispered, burrowing her face in Bryce's neck. Talia felt dizzy, the immense pain and chaos causing her world to become blurry. She steadied herself against one of the wooden beams supporting the room, trying to keep up with what happened. It tore her apart, more than she could have ever anticipated, to see Aedan's dead expression as his parents told him to leave them behind. The sound of breaking wood somewhere outside and above them caused her world to simmer back into place. She knew what the sound, and now the noise from fighting, meant.

"They've broken through the gates." Duncan urged; "We must go now!"

Talia stared at Duncan, even as he hauled Aedan to his feet. None of this seemed possible, and if she denied it and shut her eyes closed, it would all probably turn out to be a nightmare. It only became real when Duncan grabbed her wrist as well, hauling her after him into the hidden exit. Disgusted by the situation, Talia yanked her wrist free and turned to Bryce and Eleanor. She hadn't been able to save them in the end, however much she had wanted to and tried, and the knowledge of this made her want to throw up.

"I'll keep him safe." She said to Aedan's parents. She hadn't planned on saying anything, but the words came out still; "I promise."

Eleanor turned teary and swollen eyes towards her, a crushed, but relieved smile on her lips even as tears washed over them.

"Thank you. Maker bless you, Talia." The woman whispered. Talia could hear the fighting coming closer now. She offered the nobles, and they were the truest meaning of noble she had ever met, a final bow before she followed Duncan and a broken Aedan through the cramped tunnel. Locking the entrance behind her, Talia was able to make it almost ten seconds through the tunnel before she could hear the door to the Larder being broken in.

* * *

**Damn... so, thát happened.**

**I know some people disregard the Human Noble origin because it lacked some connections with the later stages of the game, a lack of Ser Jory reacting to the Warden, being one of them. I still do think it is one of the more powerful origins, namely because of the absolutely devastating ending to it. The young Cousland sees his parents being left to die, ****_he_**** is the one doing the leaving, for Mara's sake! That's gotta leave some serious emotional scars.**

**Anderson: "Every soldier has-"**

**Shhh! This isn't your universe, buzz of David!**

**But yeah, that's gotta leave a trauma ****_well_**** into his adult life. It's sad, really, that the day there was a chance for Aedan to finally become a man, seeing how he ****_is_**** old enough, his family is brutally slaughtered and his home taken over. I wonder if that's the Maker saying 'no-go' to pre-married sex? Meh, maybe not, but the Chantry would probably use it as an argument, sorta like some aspects of the church in America (and other places, I know) yell that God hates sex and gays and... dammit, I gotta stop these rantings because I always venture into politics!**

**Regardless, please review and tell me what you think of Talia's character and development. Other things too, of course, of course.**

**Later :D**


	6. The Road of Misery

**Here we are again, with another chapter.**

**There'll be a slow-down in the rate of updates, as Summer school is taking eight hours from my daily schedule. So, there's that. Well, no more dilly-dallying, time to go Hill-Vallying (that IS what they say in Doctor Who... right?) Ah sod it. Let's get this show on the road. **

* * *

_I left my home, burning. _

_I once though these people to be my friends, companions in life. __How can I ever think so again, now, __r__unning from the Stormcloaks because of my birth. __The skies were red, the color was my home, my life, burning. __But it gave me purpose. __I headed for Solitude. __I knew, this was where the Legion recruited. __"Vengeance" sang in my thoughts. - Kardlas Jorihle, Aldmeri Legate of the Imperial Legion._

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**The Road of Misery**

* * *

Highever was behind them, nothing but a bright silhouette on the horizon. Flames licked against the night sky, portraying the towers and walls against the darkness of the night. The night was cold, chilling winds brushing against Talia's bare face. Her hood had been lost during the fights, ripped to shreds when a bolt had gone straight by her ear. She considered it a sign of luck, and had kept the tattered remains hanging from her shoulders.

That was about all the luck she could think about, though.

Aedan hadn't said a word since they left the castle behind, walking as if in a trance. Talia didn't know if he had heard the same things she had, the sounds of the larder being breached, the screams of dying men briefly echoing through the tunnel before stopping altogether. When they had come through the tunnel, Talia had wanted to comfort Aedan somehow. He was broken, an empty shell who had just left his parents to die. She couldn't even start to understand how he was feeling, and trying would be an insult, she thought.

When they reached the town closest to the castle, Duncan had ordered them to stay out of sight. There was, he'd said, the very real risk of Howe's men being in the town as well. Talia didn't know if he'd been right, but she had made sure to stay out of sight with Aedan, waiting for Duncan in the outskirts of the forest bordering the town.

That was almost two hours ago. They were both sitting on the ground near the trees, Aedan seemingly asleep while Talia scouted for Duncan to return. She had no idea what the man had needed to do in the town, but being left alone with Aedan gave her time to think about the horrors that had taken place that night.

"Gods, I messed it up…" She muttered to herself. She had promised Ser Gilmore, who was by now probably dead as well, that she would protect Aedan's family. And what did she have to show for it? Aedan's parents were dead and he himself was a traumatized shell of a person. She felt disgust, mostly with herself, knowing that her attempts at seducing him had probably meant none of them had heard Oren and Oriana being murdered. If she hadn't done that… if she had just been quiet, they could have saved more people. They could have saved the innocent little boy, his mother…She could have saved the Teyrn too, if she'd just been stronger, faster… "Arkay… I really screwed up."

She looked back at Aedan, in what dim light was left. There was a morbid tone to the fact that what light was illuminating his face came from the burning castle. His breathing was steady, calm. So he was asleep. Talia chewed her cheek, not daring to imagine the nightmares likely haunting his mind. She dared not stop watching the town, out of paranoia that Howe's men would pursue them when she wasn't looking. But at the same time, she wanted more than anything else to sit down next to Aedan and hold him close. _Do I even deserve his presence? He lost his…everything, because I wasn't good enough._

She held up her hands, glaring at the small ruptures on each fingertip. They were there, because she had never bothered training healing. Her own arrogance came back to haunt her, the old assurance that there would always be a healer or a potion-maker nearby. Now, because she had never bothered to learn healing when destruction was so much more exciting, she hadn't been able to help anyone. She'd only superficially healed Gilmore, and she had been completely unable to do anything for the Teyrn. Her own parents were safely back in High Rock, but now Aedan was an orphan because she hadn't been a more capable healer. _I can't save anyone… Onmund trusted me, and now he is dead. Aedan's family trusted me, and now they are dead too. I can't help people, I can only bring death._

A small, sardonic and self-loathing chuckle rose in her throat at that thought._ And even thát, I turned out to suck at..._

She'd been arrogant. She always thought that just because she could kill a robber without too much effort that there was no reason to get even better. Her reserves were a joke, even Brelyna's were better. Then again, Talia had never _needed_ to enhance her reserves. Gods, she wanted to go back in time and beat herself senseless with a stick for being so careless.

"I hate this country…" She muttered into her arms. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, and likely wouldn't even be the last one either. To be frank, she hated the entire continent as well. People like Howe were probably everywhere, decadent and treacherous.

"…me too." Talia almost jumped when she heard Aedan's hoarse whisper. She whipped around to see him awake, looking at her with a weak expression of defeat on his face. The young man she had walked with in the corridors was gone, replaced by a broken soul. Talia didn't know what to do. She looked at him, and he looked at her. There was nothing of the warmth or energy she had seen earlier in his eyes. Now there was just bereft, sorrow and grief.

"…Aedan, I…" She started, but trailed off as she realized nothing she said would make it better. Nothing _anyone_ said could make this better. She bit her lip and looked at her feet, unable to meet his eyes. How _could_ she meet them, after all that had happened?

"I always thought that… people were good. Inside." Aedan muttered. His voice was almost completely gone, replaced with a hoarse whisper from the way he had cried when they escaped the castle. It was scary, because he hadn't even screamed or yelled, simply cried as Duncan more or less hauled him away from the exit. Talia was silent; "I thought… I thought people you called 'friend' were supposed to… to be good. My father knew… Howe, for more than twenty years."

She didn't speak. Instead, Talia merely listened. She wanted to scoot closer to Aedan. She wanted to hold him close, to protect him. The feelings that welled up when she saw him in this state, reminded her more of feelings towards her younger brother back home, than a man she would have made love to. It was disconcerting, but she ignored her own worries now. Aedan was broken, and Talia felt she had to do something to help repair him, even if she couldn't.

"I suppose it just… shows that even those you would trust with your life… I don't even know what." It ripped and tugged at Talia's heart to hear his voice, broken and shattered as it was. She swallowed one of many hard lumps of guilt stuck in her throat;

"Aedan…"

"My parents are dead. I know. I know, and I'm not even trying to run away to avenge them…" Aedan's words made Talia's eyes widen in shock. She had known this was a risk, but hoped Aedan would blame her or Duncan instead. Now, she could only listen in horror to Aedan's next words; "I wasn't fast enough. If I'd come sooner, dad would still be alive, or if I'd just… just killed Howe when I saw him the first time. I should have stayed, I could have done _something_. Anything. But… I didn't. I ran. I _ran_ while Howe murdered my parents!"

"There was nothing you could have done." Talia said, trying to sound like she was certain. She _was_, but her words came out weak and wavering.

"Don't you think I _know_ that?! I would have died if we stayed, I _know_ that!" Aedan yelled. He remained slumped against the tree, but his eyes were locked on her. Talia felt herself waver beneath his glare. It was so different, his gaze, from the way he had looked at her earlier. She knew she probably deserved it. She'd had time to think everything over, cursing herself whenever she found a place where she could have acted differently. She could have summoned the atronach instead of Two-Sock, had something stronger than her familiar to fight Howe's men. She could have left it with Ser Gilmore, to provide support; "So why do I still feel like I betrayed my parents?"

His voice had broken, each word carrying the immense grief he felt. Talia got up from her seat on the ground and sat down next to Aedan. She ignored the way he looked at her; confused, frightened, exhausted, angry.

"Aedan… if anyone aside from Howe betrayed your parents tonight… it was me." She didn't know how else to put it. She had been a guest in their home, and how had she repaid them? She'd tried seducing Aedan, completely missing the sounds from Oren and Oriana's room. If she had just avoided Aedan completely, he would have been able to hear the fighting earlier, and Oren and Oriana would be alive. And Talia still knew they wouldn't have made it in the end. Oren was a child, Oriana a no-doubt strong, but defenseless mother. Howe's men hadn't discriminated between their victims.

"What are you talking about?" He said, his voice low, angry and desperate. He was probably still clinging to the hope that this was all just a nightmare. Talia glanced at him before looking away. She'd never planned for anything like this. But her own embarrassment was nothing compared to the guilt she carried.

"Oren and Oriana, your brother's wife and child…Howe's men killed them while we…I, was… while I just wanted to…" She couldn't say it. She couldn't say the words that would tell Aedan that she had just wanted to use him for a fun night. It was demeaning, cruel and outright shaming what she had done, she realized that now. In a way, she'd always known, but carried on regardless.

Aedan didn't say anything. He just lowered his head and looked at the ground between his knees. Talia wanted to die. Knowingly or not, she'd caused him so much pain just for her own pleasure. She felt dirty.

"I should have stopped. I just…" She sighed, groaning as her head was bumped against the trunk behind her; "I just… I don't know."

"You didn't know…"Aedan breathed. He didn't sound like he put any emotion at all into his own words, like they were just empty sounds. Talia wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him until the sun rose. But she knew she couldn't. She was one of the reasons why Oren and Oriana were now dead, something she knew she could never make up for. A small part of her almost wanted Fergus to strike her down if he wasn't already dead too.

Duncan arrived soon after, riding a stocky horse while two others followed in leashes behind him. Talia was the first to hear him, or rather the sound of hooves on the stony ground. She didn't say anything as she got up, neither did Aedan.

"We'll be riding from here to Ostagar by the Imperial highway." Duncan explained. Talia didn't bother arguing. She hated riding, one of the reasons she used carriages to get across Skyrim. It was the fact that she would be putting her trust in an animal she couldn't communicate with that unnerved her.

Aedan mounted without a word or hint of trouble, leaving Talia to struggle her way into the saddle. She sat awkwardly in the saddle at first, trying to adjust her legs to better fit the seating. Riding while wearing robes wasn't a pleasant experience, and already she could feel the material straining. Groaning in frustration, she pulled the robes all the way up to her upper thighs. Her underclothing wasn't meant for the stress riding would cause, but was better than nothing. Turk, the Mabari seemingly impossible to separate from Aedan, was trotting along next to Aedan's horse. It seemed blissfully unaware of its master's mood, and Talia envied the dog its ignorance.

Regardless of what she felt, she knew there was one thing she could do. She had sworn to Aedan's parents that she would keep him safe. She didn't know if she could keep him out of harm's way, but she would make sure nothing happened to him. He was the only person in this land who had seemed to understand her. He had listened to her, and he hadn't told anyone that she had other gods. _He _had kept his word and remained honest and truthful. And what had she done? She'd tried to seduce him, seen him as a plaything, as a person she could exploit like the servants back home. She'd wanted him, and hadn't seen a reason not to take him. What kind of person did that make her?

For the next many hours, she rode in silence with that one question filling her mind.

* * *

"We make camp here for the night." Duncan said, raising a hand against the darkening sky.

Talia had no idea how far they had ridden, but found she didn't particularly care either. The day had been miserable, with the cold sun blinding them in its waning hours. There hadn't been any warmth in it, just as the people on whom it shone. She watched with weary eyes as Duncan dismounted and started leading his horse into the trees. Aedan followed him, each of his steps seemingly forced from an inner struggle that kept him going.

Talia did the same, not even caring that her heel knocked the horse over its back when she jumped down. The blasted creature could whiney and protest all it wanted, she didn't care. She grabbed the reins and roughly pulled the animal with her into the forest. Normally, she would have enjoyed the feeling of soft ground and moss beneath her feet, but nothing was enjoyable today. She knew she had no real right to be so depressed, except that she didn't care. She _was_ depressed, because people who had treated her with only respect and kindness were now dead, and Talia had failed to protect those who welcomed her into their house. At least this made a choice easy enough, namely that she now no longer had to worry about returning home to High Rock. Father would disown her if and when he learned how she had failed the obligations of the guest. That she had fled while her hosts were slaughtered.

Duncan was already in the process of collecting firewood, something Talia had never really needed. Her family carried a long line of fire-mages, and generally didn't have a problem with the cold of the night, even in Skyrim. Here though, she understood the reason, and helped gather branches and sticks. _It's the only thing I can do right, it seems…_

"Talia?" Duncan asked. Talia picked up on his voice, noticing that she'd been idly staring at the pile of twigs Duncan had already placed. Heaving a sigh, she dropped her own bundle of wood and set it alight with a mere wave of her hand. The flames from her hand caught onto the collected wood and started eating away. Aedan dumped his own bundle by the fire and stared into the flames.

Talia noticed Duncan gestured for her to move a bit away from the fire. She followed him until he stopped, hopefully out of hearing distance from Aedan. Talia glanced back, seeing him still standing by the fire. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked back at Duncan. She wasn't sure what to say.

"How are you feeling?" Duncan asked, sparing her the trouble of initiating a conversation. She briefly considered lying, but dismissed it. There wasn't anything to be gained from lying to Duncan, and he would likely be able to tell, which would only serve to worsen their working-relationship. She didn't need that now. Talia still felt a small amount of disgust that Duncan exploited what happened in Highever to get Aedan on board.

"Not good." She sighed; "Mostly, it's because…because I can't help feel like I could have done _something_. Aedan lost his family, and I couldn't do anything to save them."

"None of us saw Howe's treason coming, Talia." Duncan stated. From the black marks under his eyes, Talia could see he was exhausted as well. It had been more than a day since any of them had slept the last time; "While it is true that Aedan has been robbed of everything he once knew, this is where we as Grey Wardens must become his new family."

"…Duncan." Talia sighed, rubbing her closed eyes; "I'm not… I don't know if I deserve being in your order."

"I am not sure I understand, Talia." Duncan said, concern in his eyes. Talia winced at the sign that he worried about her. Currently, she didn't feel like she deserved it; "There is no 'deserve' in being a Grey Warden. We pick from skill, not the moral compass when we recruit."

"I spent most of the evening… before we found out, I spent most of the evening trying to…We were in Aedan's room, and I thought… I don't know what I thought, but I wanted him to come with us, so I…" She stopped, pulling in a deep breath. Just talking about it felt like she was spitting on Aedan's family, as well as her own and her friends.

"You feel guilty because you think your presence prevented Aedan from noticing the attack before it was too late." Duncan couldn't know the details, about Oren and Oriana, but he had hit the head on the nail regardless. Talia hugged herself, then dropped her hands in defeat and nodded;

"If I hadn't occupied him, maybe Fergus' son and wife would still be alive." There. She'd said it. She'd known since the escape that she couldn't have saved the Teyrn or the Teyrna, but she could have saved Fergus' family. Dammit, she _knew_ she could have saved them.

Duncan was silent for so long, Talia almost took it as a sign that he was done talking. As she turned to leave though, Duncan continued; "Has he said anything yet?"

"…He blames himself…" she muttered. She knew Aedan probably wouldn't want her to tell Duncan this, but if it would somehow help in the end, she knew she had to. Duncan sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with an armored glove.

"I see." Duncan said in a low voice; "Talia… we need to keep an eye on him."

Talia shook her head at the concern. She knew what he meant, even if he hadn't said anything concrete; "Aedan isn't stupid, Duncan. He knows that he'd never even get close to Howe. I think he just wants to see Howe brought to justice, even if he can't swing the axe himself."

"I know, but… grief can do things to the mind. You yourself were ready to die if it meant killing Irving, as I recall." Duncan didn't seem to take the least bit pleasure in being right, even though he was. Talia realized that, looking back. When she'd been told Onmund was dead, she'd wanted nothing more than a suicide-run on Irving. She'd have attacked, possibly killed the man, and then been killed herself.

"Fine." She muttered, then looked at where Aedan still stood, looking into the fire. He sat down, almost as if he knew she looked at him. But his eyes never left the fire; "But I don't like seeing… I _hate_ seeing Aedan going through this."

"As do I. Bryce and Eleanor were good people, and Aedan never deserved any of this. Until we get to Ostagar, do your best to keep him with us. I know it sounds like I am leaving my responsibilities with you, Talia, but…" Duncan sighed, regret in his voice as he spoke next; "Aedan would be more likely to open up to you than to the man who dragged him from his family."

"You didn't. You saved his life, saved mine too." Talia insisted. Duncan was one of the better people she had met in this land, and he should be above blaming himself for something not his fault. That he had conscripted Aedan was only because of the immense threat to the land. A threat that, Talia realized, she knew little about.

"And yet, I suspect you would have despised me for taking you from the tower if you'd grown up with it as your only home. Understand, Talia, that a recruit cannot leave once drafted into the Wardens." Duncan said, giving her a look she couldn't identify; "I know you planned on escaping me since the moment we left the tower." Talia was forced to huff in annoyance at that, as well as slightly ashamed.

"I was _that_ obvious, was I?" she muttered.

"There were signs, yes. Still, we should make sure Aedan recovers from this, uncaring as my words may sound." Duncan said, bringing her mind back to what was at hand. She looked at Aedan, who was still sitting by the fire; "I will take the first watch tonight. We will be at Ostagar in two days, if all goes as planned."

"Nothing ever does." Talia muttered. Considering the conversation over, she walked back to the fire and slumped against a stone covered with thick mosses. Pulling her robes around her like a cloak, she looked at Aedan as he still sat unmoving by the flames.

Had she ruined his life by entering it, or merely ended up softening the blow he had been dealt by fate? She didn't know anymore, not after Duncan's words. Her heart still ached at seeing Aedan like this.

"Aedan... You should try to get some sleep."

"…I'm not tired." He stated, not looking away from the fire. His one move consisted of placing a new log on the flames. Turk was on the ground next to him, looking at his master with deep, sad eyes. Talia believed she knew what went through the Mabari's mind. They both looked at Aedan and saw the ruins of a person. They both wanted to help him, and both seemed unable to do anything to that effect. It felt like the butt of some cruel joke.

"You _need_ to sleep. Aedan…" She said softly, suppressing the tones of guilt and shame in her voice. He didn't need to hear those now. He just needed to recover.

"Why? Why should I? Why do you even care?" He muttered darkly, still not looking at her. Talia felt like he had hit her in the face. Mostly because he had good reason not to trust her. She had more or less admitted that she'd only been at his room, with him, because she was in it for herself, not because she cared about him.

Except she did.

Talia _did_ care about Aedan, if only not in the romantic way he might have thought. She hadn't even cared much about him in any way, back then. But seeing the way he acted, the way he reacted to what happened, the way he was destroyed as a person in the larder, she'd come to care for him more than she thought she could. She couldn't even explain it, but she saw in him… she didn't know _what_ she saw, but she _needed_ to be there for him.

"Aedan…" She pleaded; "Hate me, if you want. I understand that you do. But don't punish yourself by refusing to sleep."

"…I don't… hate you, Talia." He said after what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence. The words brought a small measure of relief, but nothing to help them now. They didn't change the fact that he had been robbed of his home and family; "I… just don't understand. There is so much I don't understand, and I thought, when we were in my room, that… that I finally understood_ some_ things…but, I didn't in the end, did I?"

"I don't know." She admitted; "I never planned for any of this. To be honest… I just wanted… I didn't want not to bring you with us when we left the castle."

"'Could've just asked." He muttered, looking at the ground between them; "Why didn't you just ask?"

"I've… never been good at that sort of… thing. People used to say I was abrasive, rash, unpleasant to be around because of how I did things." She mused bitterly; "Chased the boys, for one… I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"I know. I thought it was too good to be true, too." Aedan sighed as he lay down in his armor, looking at the skies above them. The stars looking down between the trees weren't the same Talia remembered from Skyrim or High Rock, which meant they were far enough down _south_ that they passed the equator. She'd thought they were somewhere up north still. Figures. Not that it mattered anymore though.

"Some _was_ true, you know…" Talia muttered to herself. It was low enough that Aedan likely didn't hear it. She didn't dare _let_ him hear it, not after what had happened. When none of them spoke after that, Talia instead rested her head back and looked at the skies above the trees. Secunda was up already, marginally smaller than Masser. She couldn't see the bigger moon yet, likely because it was hidden behind the trees.

She hadn't managed to close an eye when Duncan came to leave the watch to her.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Two days later, Talia rode behind Duncan and Aedan as their horses carried them onwards on the Imperial highway. She'd grown so accustomed to the sound of hooves on cobblestone, tile and brick that she almost fell off her horse in surprise when no more sounds came. For a moment, she thought her horse had stumbled. Then she felt the next thud of a hoof on the ground, and relaxed.

Aedan hadn't said much more since their conversation by the fire, if that could even be called a conversation. He was bitter, that much was evident. The pain was obviously still raw and fresh, the emotional wound still too gaping and infected. Both she and Duncan had made attempts at drawing him from his shell, but gave up after he more or less shut them out. Talia felt like she would have been grateful if he would just shout at them, her or Duncan. It didn't matter, she just felt desperate for him to show emotions. Howe might not have killed Aedan, but he had emotionally damaged the man. And Talia hurt every time she saw the pained look in his eyes.

Spires rose in the distance, like claws sticking from the ground. Actually, they were quite straight and seemed artificial. Talia bit her lips in thought. She hadn't seen those things before, and the only time she'd seen something similar had to be in the book showing a picture of Cyrodiil.

"Duncan, what are those?" She asked, riding up next to the older man. She tried getting a look at Aedan, to see if there was a reaction to her riding up. She prayed and wished there was, but he just looked at her, then back to looking forward, still with the pained, ruined look in his eyes.

"The Tower of Ishal. We are nearing Ostagar, so keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary." Duncan said, his hands remaining on the reins despite Talia sensing he wanted to touch the hilt of his blades;

"Meaning?"

"Two major battles have already been won against the Darkspawn here. I would not be surprised if they were scattered throughout the Wilds as well." When Duncan spoke, Talia swallowed a lump. They were so near the destination that now there was a threat of these "Darkspawns" attacking them out of the blue. It would be a welcome break from the uncomfortable silence of their ride.

"Fergus is there." Aedan said, speaking for the first time of the day. Talia's brows went up, looking between Duncan and Aedan. True, that was what Aedan's parents had said, to find his brother at Ostagar. This meant Aedan at least wasn't without all his family. His brother was alive, at least.

"That's good, right?" She asked, hoping against hope to see some actual emotion on Aedan's face. There actually was a change, though not the kind she had hoped for;

"He doesn't know. I'll have to tell him. About mother, father… Oren and Oriana." Aedan choked out, his voice hoarse as if he had been crying for days. He hadn't, Talia had checked. And yet, his throat sounded absolutely destroyed from grief. _Oh gods… he's going to kill himself when he hears it, isn't he?_

She couldn't voice those thoughts. Instead, she said with a gentle, concerned tone; "How are you going to tell him?" Aedan didn't speak for a whole minute, and Talia thought he hadn't heard her.

"Just… tell him, I guess…" He muttered, heaving a long sigh; "I'm _scared,_ of telling him."

"Aedan, if you wish, I can relay the message for you." Duncan offered, giving the young noble a concerned look; "I'll say I didn't allow you to leave your duties, and your brother can vent what understandable grief he will have on me, instead of you."

Talia turned to look at Duncan, her respect for the man rising. There was nothing for Duncan to gain from doing something like that, and at worst, Fergus might kill him for relaying the message. She'd heard losing one's child could do horrible things to a man's mind. And Fergus had lost his wife as well, something which pained Talia as well. Oriana, from what little she knew of the woman, had been a good person, a loving mother and not even distrusting of a mage. In hindsight, Talia supposed it _had_ all been too good to be true.

"No. I should be the one to tell him. Fergus left his family in my care, they were my responsibility, Duncan." Aedan bit back, his tone unusually bitter. Then again, his tone was an unusual thing to even _hear_ since Highever.

"If that is what you want." Duncan replied, nodding to Aedan before shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed at the tower; "When we arrive, I'll have to leave the two of you on your own. Find Alistair, he will be the senior Warden in charge of your group."

"Group?" Talia asked. "Group" normally meant somewhere above three, which had her confused. Duncan nodded, as they started meeting tiles instead of dirt under their horses.

"Two other recruits are waiting. You, in particular I think will find them interesting, Talia." The Commander said. Talia looked at him, wanting him to say more. Instead, the man fell silent as they neared Ostagar. Soldiers began appearing around them, busy with tents, drilling, tending to injuries and other things usually affiliated with soldiery things.

"The king has already won two large battles against the Darkspawn." Duncan explained further as they dismounted, gave their horses to the stable-boy and walked into an arched corridor. It was a ruin, so what had once no-doubt been tall windows were now gaps in the stonework, if pretty gaps. Talia gazed out from the gaps, seeing nothing but forests for as long as the eye went. Amazing, that a place still had forests this large. Most places in the northern Tamriel had cut down just about everything to the size of the forests outside Riften. Not that Talia had ever been there, but Arniel Gane had; "We have yet to meet the bulk of the Horde though. I fear that the coming battle will be the most difficult to win."

Talia was about to ask what he meant, and how he could know that, when she noticed someone approaching them from the other side of the palisaded gate protecting their side of Ostagar.


	7. Ostagar

**Yep, your eyes aren't playing tricks. A new chapter is right up. I as always ask that you share your thoughts on ever chapter, because it gives me something to read, enjoy and learn from while writing, or when not writing.**

**Anyway, let's get this show on the road, yes? :)**

* * *

_The Dwemer, who were they? _

_Where did they go?_

_Why are we left with such wonders, left behind as if for a break_

_yet now we know only the ruins, the houses, _

_not the builders, nor the residents._

_- Scholar Arrentus of the Cynod_

* * *

**Ostagar**

* * *

Talia was about to ask what Duncan meant, and how he could know that, when she noticed someone approaching them from the other side of the palisaded gate protecting their side of Ostagar. In reality, it was just a doorway with a fenced barricade though. The man approaching them was, and here she blinked to make sure her eyes were intact, wearing armor made from _gold_. _Who by Zenithar makes armor from gold?_

"Ho there, Duncan." The man hollered. His head was the only part of him not shielded by the _massive_ armor, and long blonde hair flowed down his neck. Talia idly noted that it was longer than hers. His face was lit in a huge, almost childlike smile upon seeing Duncan. Odd, maybe he was another Warden? Duncan's nephew could be a valid guess too, what with the man's obvious youth and happiness.

"King Cailan?" Duncan replied respectfully, if surprised, taking the man's outstretched hand. Talia felt like her jaw and hands were ready to drop straight off. _This is the KING?! He's a child, by Akatosh!_; "I wasn't expecting a-"

"A royal welcome? I needed to welcome back the Warden-Commander, of course. Also, Loghain is dragging on with his tactics. The Darkspawn will be here, and it will be _glorious._ Facing evil side by side with the Wardens. Just like the heroes of legend." Talia resisted the urge to groan. The king was not only a young, naïve man, he was also apparently going to fight on the front with the Grey Wardens. All that added up to one conclusion in her mind. _We… we're kinda screwed._

"Your uncle sends his regards, your majesty. The forces of Redcliffe can be here within the week, if you are willing to wait." Duncan said as he repositioned himself after the somewhat awkward stand-by-Cailan he'd been pulled into. While Talia found it a bit funny, Aedan didn't seem to notice. Though, the king seemed to notice him.

"Eamon just wants in on all the glory. We've beaten back the horde before, and we'll do so again." Cailan said, then turned a smile at Aedan. A smile that wasn't returned; "You there, you are Bryce's youngest, are you not? I was surprised when he didn't arrive with the Highever forces."

"Are you not… even aware that my parents are dead?" Aedan asked in disbelief. Cailan's face went from happy, bypassed disbelieving and went straight to utter horror.

"Dead? What? Whe- how?" The king exclaimed. Duncan saved Aedan from further words by stepping in himself;

"I am afraid we bring dire news as well, your majesty. Arl Howe has overtaken the Teyrnir of Highever, and murdered Bryce and Eleanor Cousland. We barely escaped with our lives." Duncan was indeed a better man to talk to the king. Talia looked at Aedan, and saw the fresh hints of pain emerging at the mentioning of his parents' murder. She wanted, not for the first time, to hug him until things were made better by it.

"What could he possibly hope to gain from-" Cailan cursed under his breath, then snapped back up to look at Aedan; "You have my word, Aedan Cousland, that as soon as we have won our victory here, I will turn my army on Highever and bring Howe to justice. He will _hang_ for this!"

"Fergus, my brother?" The reply seemed to have at least removed the dead look from Aedan's eyes, though the pain was still there. Cailan nodded;

"Fergus arrived safely with the Highever forces. Currently though, he is out scouting and won't be able to return before _after_ the battle. I am sorry, but there is nothing more I can do." Cailan said. He looked like he genuinely wanted to march whatever soldiers he had, out to find Fergus and bring him back. _He might be a fool… but his heart at least seems to be in the right place. Likely, he is a better warrior than a ruler._

"Thank you." Aedan's reply was clipped, but at least as polite as a royal person might require. Cailan seemed satisfied, in the end, and excused himself. When the three were left alone, Talia looked at Duncan for a few moments, trying to figure out the best way to voice her thoughts.

"Your king… is sorta _weird."_ She settled with in the end. Duncan seemed to have expected the comment, but still wasn't exactly pleased with it.

"So, this is not even a Blight?" Aedan muttered, looking at the king as he, and a good score of guards, returned to the camp. It was difficult for Talia to figure out what was going on in his mind at that moment, and she wasn't sure she even wanted to know. The question held both accusation, confusion and relief.

"What the king says _is_ true. They haven't seen an Arch Demon so far, so I don't blame him for believing it merely a large Darkspawn raid." Duncan explained as the two young ones looked at him. Aedan with something that seemed like disinterest, while Talia was somewhere between relief and annoyed that she hadn't a clue what an Arch demon was.

"Arch Demon?" She said in mild disbelief. Duncan nodded;

"In the past Blights, there has always been one of the old tainted gods leading the Darkspawn horde. It takes the form of a tainted Dragon, as the old gods of the Tevinter Imperium were worshipped in the form of dragons." Talia sighed and rubbed her eyelids at that one. It was frustrating how there were similarities in stupidity between this "Thedas" continent, and Tamriel. For some reason, morons seemed to climb each others corpses to worship dragons.

"Did that result in a cataclysmic series of events and battles known as the Dragon War where the sons of the Dragon god of Time were killed or banished into time?" Talia asked, keeping a straight face while Duncan's went from surprised to utterly confused. For almost an entire second, the man's face was one big 'What?'. Even Aedan seemed to actually display some surprise.

"I'm sorry… what?" Duncan was the first to speak.

"Oh, right. You don't know, do you?" Talia allowed herself a smile at seeing Aedan seemingly forgetting his grief from the sheer curiosity in his face. Good, she wanted to keep it that way. Turk was the only one who seemed to have his mood undisturbed by her small revelation. The Mabari simply lolled his tongue and looked between them; "Never mind then. So, those Blights?"

"…Right." Duncan muttered, taking a moment to regain his posture; "The Blights Thedas has faced before have all been led by an Arch Demon. As far as we know, the Arch Demons are the Old Gods of the Tevinter Imperium, tainted by the Darkspawn upon discovery."

"So… because no one has spotted an undead Dragon yet, you all assume this isn't a Blight?" Aedan asked. It seemed that somehow, Talia had managed to haul him from his depressed mood. Not that she blamed him in the least. If her own family died, much as she loathed what they wanted for her, Talia knew she would probably be inconsolable as well.

"True. But I know in my heart that an Arch Demon is behind this."

"Then why not just tell your king? An undead dragon should be enough to have him take this seriously. He's too much of a child the way he acts right now." Talia huffed as they walked. There was a huge ravine separating them from the rest of the camp, and the only way across was a stone bridge lined with statues. They seemed very familiar for some reason.

"I can't have the king act solely on my feeling, much as I like. Cailan does come across a bit… eager, I admit. But that is why we look to Teyrn Loghain to win the battle."

"There are more Teyrns?" Talia asked, stopping her walking as she looked at Duncan. The long travel had left her with blisters on her heels, so each opportunity to stop was welcomed. She hoped this "Alistair" they were supposed to find wouldn't be some sort of ridged arse who demanded them to stand all the time. She needed to sit down and perform some _serious_ healing on her poor, poor, aching feet.

"Two. Loghain is the second, and…The Highever Teyrns. So far, Loghain's strategies have worked well against the Darkspawn. We look to him to win the battle." Whoever this Loghain was, he sounded a bit like that General Tulius people always credited with victories. Talia had never seen the man, so she really wouldn't know. Or care.

"Well, problem solved then. We'll all just find some soft chairs and watch Loghain kick butt. Or, cut it, if he's using swords. Could be funny if he kicked the butt too, though." Talia mused. She wanted to get a grin out of Aedan, but the befuddled look on his face was, she supposed, just as good.

"I don't think the good general kicks the Darkspawns, no." Duncan sighed. It was only that much better to make the man, respectable as he was, exasperated. There just was a certain humor to it; "Regardless, I will have to leave the two of you for now. I suggest you go meet with Alistair, and find the other recruits at camp. To that length, I'd suggest not bringing your Mabari with you, Aedan. Not everyone at camp is comfortable around war hounds."

_"Horker,_ Duncan. A child was just fine around Two-Sock, so people supposed to fight the armies of Darkness should be able to handle a dog. Seriously." And Talia really did call Horker on that one. _She'd_ never seen a Mabari before Turk, and she wasn't the least scared of the slobbering beast.

"I suppose. In that case, do make sure he doesn't scare off the elven messengers at camp. Mabari's are much more frightening when you are just the size of a child." Duncan said, nodded to the both of them and then headed across the bridge. Talia looked at the man's back until she couldn't see him anymore, then turned to Aedan who'd been silent since his question about the Arch Demon.

"It's… different than I thought." She offered when he seemed unable to initiate a conversation; "More… big, I suppose."

"You've never seen an army at camp?" Aedan asked, raising a brow as he looked at her. His eyes were ringed with bags and red from silent crying, but at least there was some humanity back in them. It was a start, but Talia still felt uncomfortable having Aedan near a steep drop. She shrugged to ward off the anxiousness as they started walking as well;

"I've come across a single legion camp. It's not really that big though, because they mostly travel in patrols so it's only some ten-twenty people and a legate." She explained, then focused on the statues as they passed; "That thing… the statue…"

"Andraste?" Aedan asked, looking at the apparently weeping woman with a raised brow; "What's with her?"

"I've seen that statue before… in the forests." Talia muttered; "Of course, this is in much better shape and not covered with moss and ruins and… stuff."

"I'm guessing there are statues of her spread all over Ferelden and beyond. Even in the middle of forests, people seemed to build statues in her honor." Aedan explained as they passed a small group of archers in the middle of a game of cards.

"It's just that… when we arrived in Ferelden, when that shitty scroll went wrong, I was almost dropped on top of that woman's head in some marsh." At his disbelieving expression, Talia added; "First time teleporting. I didn't really know what to do..."

"I suppose. Still, good thing you didn't actually land on her head. It'd be kinda blasphemic, I think." Aedan muttered, though his lip seemed to see a small, almost invisible creasing. Or, it might be her eyes messing with her again.

"Blasphemic?"

"The people worshiping her would be a little pissed that your ass ended up on Andraste's head." Aedan said. Talia stopped and turned, examining the nearest statue closely.

"I thought you worshipped your Maker? Where does Andraste enter the picture?" She said, giving Aedan a look like he'd gone mad. Or stupid. Probably both, because she was pretty damn confused now. So, maybe they had _two_ gods, but then why would Duncan had lied?

"Andraste is the Maker's bride." Aedan said as if that explained everything. Talia made it clear, by looking at him stupidly, that it _didn't_ make everything clear. Aedan sighed, likely due to the prospects of a long explanation; "The Chantry says that the Maker abandoned his children when he saw our evil and unworthy ways and… other things. Then, a woman's voice reached him in Heaven, and he fell in love with her."

"So… your god fell in love with a mortal woman, who was then made a goddess? But you said to me people _couldn't_ be made gods back in Highever!" Talia exclaimed, but wanted to take her words back when she saw Aedan flinch at the mention of Highever. _Piss._

"It's… difficult to explain. Andraste was the prophet of the Maker, not a goddess. She is at his side though, I think. She's the one who spread the Andrastian faith." Aedan explained. Talia furrowed her brows in confusion as something was suddenly made clear to her;

"So… Andraste is like Talos? Only, not a _man_ or a god of war, but still. Same thing." Aedan smacked a hand over his forehead, muttering something about wishing something called a 'Mallol' was there to save him. Talia had no idea what he meant.

"Let's just… go find those other people." He muttered and passed by a guard manning the fenced gate leading into the camp proper. It was all apparently located in the ruined grand hall of whatever the place had been once, and Talia saw people use the ruins for very different purposes than they were meant for. Pillars, for example, were likely never meant for latrines. Turk didn't seem to mind though, and trotted along with the same dog-ish dog-smile on his face. Talia wished she could call up Two-Sock for some intelligent and non-moody company combined in one "person", but knew some people were probably going to be pissed at seeing a Familiar. Or scared. Proabably scared.

"Look. That's the Circle's part of the camp." Aedan pointed out, gesturing at where mages and templars were occupying a rather large section of the camp. Talia noticed she'd started grounding her teeth when he said the words, and stopped with an effort. She still looked, though, and saw that a good part of the are was dedicated to templars guarding some sort of ritual. Mages, inside some purple barrier, were weaving their arms through the air like they were being chased by bees.

The image was a rather amusing one.

Talia's amusement vanished though, when she recognized a person resting by one of the trees at the mages' camp. An unconscious twitch made Talia look like she was smiling before she got in under control and looked at Aedan with a fake smile plastered on her face;

"Will you wait here? I won't be long, just… gotta see a friend." While "friend" was definitely an overstatement and far too friendly a term, she managed to get the words out without _obviously_ lying. She didn't even wait for Aedan's reply either, and made a furious beeline towards the mage-camp. Her eyes were locked on a single person. A single, inconspicuously looking woman. Said woman now seemed to have seen her as well.

"Appren- Warden recruit Talia. I am glad to see you are still with Duncan." The old lady said. Talia still didn't know her name, but wasn't bothered by it. There was no need to. Instead, she pointed an annoyed finger at the older mage.

"I still don't like you. And Irving stole my book. And your Circle is wrong, and Irving is a murderous _cunt._ And your templars are stupid." It really was a shame that she couldn't come up with more fitting insults now that she finally had the chance. The old woman didn't seem the least surprised by her words. Only slight annoyed, judging by her deepened wrinkles and brows;

"Young lady, your opinion of me is irrelevant at this time, with all that is at stake, as are your views of the Circle and Irving. Regarding your book, however, it was found to have been dropped from your satchel while in Irving's custody." The woman said, pulling a purple book with an Oblivion-gate on its cover from her own pack; "The First Enchanter hoped I would meet you here, so that you could have-"

Talia snatched the book, giving the old mage a wary look.

"- your belongings returned to you." The old woman finished. She looked like she wanted to reprimand Talia, but didn't. Good, Talia didn't need another lecture on how the mages were best served with being locked up in a tower until a sick ritual would either kill them or leave them imprisoned for the rest of their lives.

"Thanks. But, I still don't like you. And I still want Irving to eat a giant's toenail. And then catch fire. Hopefully while inside your tower so it burns down." She said, glaring at first the woman, then the templars only a few meters away; "And I hope all the templars will be in there too."

She turned, and left while both mage and templars seemed to still be considering how to respond. When she reached Aedan, he was looking at her with a deeply confused expression. Talia just waved her purple book in front of him, a smirk on her face.

"What?"

"I_ knew_ Irving had snatched my book. Now he sent it back with that old lady over there. I bet he's hoping I'm not coming back to burn his tower to the ground now." Talia thumbed at the old lady by the tree; "Like hell I'm going to let him get off."

"...Irving?" Aedan asked as they started going around the camp. Neither had any idea what this Alistair looked like, so finding him would be a bit of a chore. Talia huffed, annoyed by the mere use of Irving's name unless it was spoken with contempt.

"The leader of Kinloch Hold, the place where they imprisoned me and Onmund." She muttered, tucking the book into her satchel. Aedan nodded slowly, apparently remembering her words about Onmund and the tower.

"I see."

"Yeah… So… Duncan mentioned there being elven messengers running around, right?" Talia said, rubbing her hands with fire. It was frigging cold this far south, and the weather didn't help much. The large bonfire in the middle of the camp looked _very_ appealing. Aedan looked at her hands with badly disguised envy, but didn't remark on it.

"I guess. Are you still that eager to see an elf?" He said, eying the camp from where they were.

"Just wanna see if there's a huge difference." Talia defended herself at Aedan's 'you're like a child' tone. Still, she followed his eyes as he seemed to spot something.

"See that person running over there?" Aedan asked, pointing at a tall child running between stands of armor. Talia nodded, not entirely sure what a child would be doing there, unless it was a squire. Those tended to be kids, right?

"I… do?" she said. As Aedan didn't say anything more, Talia looked at the child again. There _was_ something off about him, because she could see it was a boy alright; "Wait… _that's _an elf?!"

"It is." Aedan nodded. Talia looked at the elf again, trying to figure out how elves could be so different from Tamriel to Thedas. The Thalmor would probably laugh their butts off (in haughty laughter of course) if they ever saw the elves of Thedas;

_"Julianos,_ that's disappointing." Talia muttered. It was a major let-down, considering the elves she knew had been all tall and magical and sometimes mocking. These ones were probably frail and scared in turn. Figures. In that case, the Dwemer were probably cave dwellers here.

"What are elves like in Tamriel then?" Aedan asked as they passed by soldiers guarding tents and receiving blessings from a priestess on a platform.

"Tall. Tall as humans, and the Thalmor are slightly taller. Then there's the Bosmer. They are mostly brown-skinned with these predatory eyes. Brelyna is a Dunmer, or a Dark-elf."

"Right. Dark skin." Aedan remembered; "I think the elves here will be a bit disappointing then, sorry."

But Talia wasn't saddened by the discoveries. Instead, she was happy that Aedan seemed to have finally snapped out of his depressed state of self-loathing and grief. It did wonders to his appearance when he didn't look like a candidate for suicide. It brought her no small amount of relief that he seemed to be alive again.

"So… Duncan mentioned other recruits, right?" Talia asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes, but I have no idea how to spot them." Aedan admitted, slumping his shoulders a little at the realization. Talia gave him a light punch on the shoulder;

"Hey, maybe they'll be waving banners saying 'Grey Warden recruit' for us to spot?" She suggested, grinning in the hope he would mirror it. He didn't, but his lips creased a little, so it was a start; "Or, we could ask someone for directions?"

"As long as it isn't someone from the Circle, right?" Aedan mused. Talia gave him a sideways look, trying to figure out if he was being considerate or if he had actually regained enough humanity to make a joke. It seemed to be the former, for which she felt glad but would have preferred him to have regained his sense of humor. She'd only had half a day to find out about it at Highever before… those things happened.

"If we can avoid them… how about that guy over there?" Talia said, pointing at a soldier obviously trying (and obviously failing) to charm a female soldier. The woman didn't seem to think much of the guy, even when he argued that 'tonight might be their last night alive'. Talia fought against the laugh threatening to burst out when the soldier simply scoffed and left the man in the dust.

"Oh well, dunno what she's missing out on." The man said, shrugging as he turned to notice Talia and Aedan looking at him; "Well what dayaknow, the camp seems full of beautiful young women today."

"Are you sure we shouldn't just run?" Talia whispered to Aedan as the man, archer by the looks of his equipment, sauntered towards them. Before Aedan could reply, the archer spoke again;

"Name's Daveth. Archer extraordinaire, Warden Recruit and appreciator of the wonders of Thedas, hereby meant lovely ladies and good food. And who might the two of you be, to approach me?" Daveth said, his jovial tone and easy smile doing a good job of making up for Talia's initial slight repulsion at his chamber-talk. Her expression became a worried frown as she processed his words;

"Wait- _You_ are a Warden Recruit?" She exclaimed, trying to justify Duncan recruiting this guy. Maybe he really _was_ an extraordinary archer, but other than that, she couldn't see it.

"Indeed I am, fair lady. I almost take it by you obviously being a mage without ties to the Circle that, if I may say so, you are as well? I don't believe I caught your name, by the way." Daveth smiled again. Talia found herself in the odd position that she was unsure if Daveth was flirting with _her_ or Aedan. He definitely seemed to throw enough gazes both ways. _Ferelden is messed up…_

"Talia Aulus."

"Aedan Cousland. Are you one of the two other recruits here?" Aedan asked. Talia herself was still somehow hoping this guy wasn't a recruit, as Grey Wardens were supposed be… more 'Warden'-ish. Daveth looked like a criminal from the streets.

"Cousland? Aren't you bugger the high 'n mighty folks in Highever? How'd Duncan ever talk them into sending you here?" Daveth's friendly grin faded as he seemed to notice the pained expression on Aedan's face; "Hey… ehm, listen if it's because they dumped some third-born or…"

"My parents are dead. I'm one of the last Couslands alive, thank you for asking." Aedan bit out. Daveth seemed to almost blanch, if only because he actually didn't seem capable of being horrified.

"Shite…I… I'm sorry, I won't bring it up again." Daveth muttered. Talia sighed and stood between the two boys before something happened; "If you're looking for Dela or Alistair, I think I saw them heading for one of them mages from the tower, up there."

Talia and Aedan nodded and started off for Daveth's directions, before Talia took a step back and whispered to the archer;

"Thanks Daveth. Listen, it's not your fault, just… don't talk too much to Aedan right now." She said. Daveth nodded and winked at her;

"Gotcha, Talia. Nice meeting the two of you, 'spite the shit with the Couslands." Talia nodded and ran to catch up with Aedan as he headed up a ramp, past an armorer.

They found a meeting to be taking place in one of the ruined circles, with an older mage talking to a soldier with wild, short red-blond hair.

"What is it now? Haven't the Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?" The mage said in a clearly exasperated and annoyed tone. The soldier just smiled politely;

"I merely came to deliver a message from revered mother, Ser mage. She desires your presence." He said, obviously doing his best to keep a straight face. Aedan's hand stopped Talia from interrupting. Looking at his face, Talia could see he was just as curious as she.

"What her Reverence _desires_ is of no concern to me. I am busy helping the Wardens -on the king's order, I might add." The grumpy mage stated. The young soldier smiled. Clearly, he was close to cracking a laugh.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?" Talia's mouth started moving, trying to ask herself out loud if the young soldier had just joked around with his religious leaders. The expression on Aedan's face revealed he thought much the same.

"Tell her, I will _not_ be harassed in this manner!" The mage exclaimed, seemingly trying to waft away a fly with his hand.

"Yes. I was harassing you by delivering a message."

"Your glibness does you no credit."

"Here I thought we were getting along so well…" The young soldier said in a mock-hurt tone. Talia's hand went to her mouth to stop the laugh trying to escape; "I was even going to name one of my children after you… the grumpy one."

Aedan coughed in shock and sucked in his breath when the mage sent a discarding glare at them both. Talia did much the same and rolled her eyes when the mage almost threw a fit;

"Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must. But do not think this is forgotten, Warden." The mage turned and stomped towards Talia and Aedan, showing no signs of waiting for them to move; "Get out of my way, fools."

They obliged, though Talia managed to trip the mage as he stormed past them, causing him to stumble and flail all the way down the ramp before stopping himself by grapping an eerily calm mage standing by the tents. He sent a glare towards them, but scoffed and moved on. _So. Worth it._

The Warden, and now both knew this was Alistair, noticed them and smiled friendly as he walked towards them. Talia couldn't help but notice his nose. It was_ very_ special, in the way it almost seemed to resemble a beak, like an eagle. Just… not so much 'tear through flesh'-ish.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." Alistair said with a witty smile. Talia's 'lunatic' sense was slightly heightened when a man described an army of Darkness as a good way of bringing people together.

"Sorry… what?"

"It's like a party. We could all stand circle and hold hands. _That_ would give the Darkspawn something to think about." Alistair grinned, then seemed to finally regain sense and sensibility; "Wait… we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose the two of you are mages?"

"Ehm…" Aedan muttered, looking between himself and Talia. Talia returned the wondering glance he sent her, shrugging before letting _him_ handle the maybe-crazy Alistair; "Well, Talia is… I'm not."

"Really? You don't look like a mage?" Alistair said; "I mean… ehm, how… how interesting."

"The whole 'robes' thing didn't give me away?" Talia mused, sensing Alistair's awkwardness. It was oddly entertaining.

"Oh, I _do_ know who you are. Duncan's recruits from the north, right? One Circle-mage and…" Alistair trailed off at Aedan; "Knight from Highever? Sir Gilmore, was it?"

Talia managed to stop herself from palming her face, though Aedan clearly didn't have that kind of restraint. It wasn't nearly as funny though, when she saw the pained expression in his eyes. Apparently, Gilmore had been a friend to Aedan. She decided to speak before he started a fight with Alistair;

"Talia Aulus, and Aedan Cousland. You're Alistair, right?" Alistair's eyes seemed to light up at Aedan's name;

"Oh, so Duncan recruited the Teyrn's son. I bet this means we can have twice the cheese, what with your noble discounts and all. They still count, right?" Talia breathed a sigh as Aedan muttered a long string of prayers for strength under his breath;

"You're a very strange man, Alistair." She said, trying to see if it would cause a reaction. Alistair just nodded and smiled;

"Mmmm, that's what they tell me. Well, as the Junior member of the Order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

"The Joining?" Aedan asked, eyebrows lifted in curiosity. Alistair did a small shake of his head;

"Sorry, can't tell you about it. Warden hush-hush and all."

"Ah…" Aedan muttered.

"So I'm curious. Have you ever actually encountered Darkspawn before?" Alistair asked. Aedan shook his head while Talia made a small frown;

"Does fighting the undead warriors of your friend's ancestors count?" She asked with an innocent, curious expression. Time to see if she could get under Alistair's skin as well. He _did_ look slightly surprised, and took a moment to reply;

"I…don't think so, no…Why would your friend's ancestors try to kill you?" to which Talia merely shrugged;

"Long story... So, have _you_ ever encountered Darkspawn?" Here, Alistair grew serious. The playful light vanished from his eyes;

"I have. When I first fought one, I wasn't prepared for just how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another..." Alistair said, then took a breath before returning to a bit less moody demeanor; "Anyhow, let's get back to Duncan. I'm sure he's eager to get things started."

"Wait, we were supposed to meet another recruit. Dela, I think it was." Aedan said. Blast, that one had slipped her mind. Alistair nodded;

"She's a bit of a one-of-a-kind, if you ask me. She's from Orzammar, Casteless, so… don't ask too much about her past. Tends to get uncomfortable. Also, don't ask about the tattoos." Talia frowned at that last one. She glanced at Aedan's tattoos, even as he did the same. _What's wrong with tattoos? Aedan's look good. Or, he looks good and they… Piss._

Regardless of the fact that she still found Aedan very attractive, Talia felt she had no right to do anything about it. She was part of the reason Oriana and Oren were dead, she felt. Even if it wasn't true, the feeling was hard to let go of. And Aedan probably wanted nothing to do with her on thát personal a level. Not after that night.

"A dwarf then? Huh… I imagined the other recruit was some burly swordsman. Then again, what swordsman would be named 'Dela'?" Aedan mused as they walked towards the bonfire. Duncan was there, waiting with a low-cut person. Talia, who had been too deep in thought to hear what Aedan said, frowned in confusion when she saw the small, armored form. _Okay, so maybe elves look like kids here… but thát is definitely not an adult._

Duncan looked up and greeted them when the trio, joined by Daveth who had come out of _nowhere,_ stopped at the bonfire. Talia outright stared at the small woman, because it _bloody was_ a woman, and didn't even realize that she did it in plain view.

"Talia?" Duncan asked. She snapped up and looked around, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at her.

"Why's that girl looking at me like that? Never seen a Duster before?" The armored, (and small, Talia couldn't leave out small) woman asked. It looked like someone had put armor on a goblin. Of course, the woman was much less ugly than a goblin. Dark braids covered most of her head, leaving just the face free, as well as a strange tattoo on her cheek.

"I…what's a Duster?" Talia blurted out. She could hear Daveth smack his forehead behind her. She knew it was him, because he started cursing with a city-ish string of words she was more or less sure neither Alistair nor Aedan knew. Or, she _hoped _neither knew.

_"Casteless_ dwarf, genius. Hey, I'm Dela. You two new faces gotta be the poor nugs Duncan went north for. Circle mage and…warrior-something, right?" Dela pondered as she obviously examined Talia and Aedan; "No… probably not Circle. Your clothes don't look like you're getting ready for a Noble party."

"I'm not sure if that was a complement or…Wait, _you're_ a _DWARF_? As in a _Dwemer!?"_ Talia exclaimed as the pieces fell together. Dela looked confused and surprised, and stared at Talia for a moment before examining her hands, both clad in heavy gauntlets of some black metal;

"I… think so. Dwarf at least. Never heard you humans call us "Dwemer" before. Slur or something?"

"But… but… _but_ you're so…" Talia struggled with the words. There was no way in Stendarr's arse this woman's people could have built Mzulft and the other Dwarven ruins beneath Tamriel.

"Female?" Dela suggested. It was clear she was too confused to be snarky. Which was good, because the rest of the party seemed more or less ready to smack their faces in exasperation; "Gorgeous? Lacking a beard?"

_"…small."_ Talia managed to breathe out after being all red in the face for an entire minute through Dela's suggestions. The dwarf seemed to lose her air as the obvious was pointed out.

"Hence the name 'Dwarf', I'd say." Daveth chuckled. Talia didn't even bother sending him a glare.

"What, you expected me to be ten six feet, girl?" Dela mused. At Talia's numb nod, Dela's mouth formed a small; "…oh."

* * *

**Yep, I replaced Ser Jory. Never really got the guy, what with his whole "I am afraid of Darkspawn" one moment, then the next "I only fear what I cannot engage with my blade." Still, I suppose he was honorable enough, just unlucky that Duncan picked him. **


	8. Into the Wilds

_And so is the Golden City blackened_

_With each step you take in my Hall._

_Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting._

_You have brought Sin to Heaven_

_And doom upon all the world._

-Threnodies 8:13

* * *

**Into the Wilds**

* * *

"Wait, what?" Alistair said, probably unsure he had even caught Talia's words. Talia wasn't paying attention to him though, as her entire mental capacity was boggled with trying to figure out if Duncan had her on or something. There was no way _that_ woman, Dela, was a _Dwemer._

"I'm what?" Dela exclaimed, her expression back from stunned. Now it was closer to annoyed than anything. Talia still hardly noticed. Dwemer were supposed to be clad in armor of Dwarven metal, directing automatons or constructing gigantic cities of metal and stone beneath the ground. Not… _Not this!_

_"…Are_ you even a Dwemer?" Talia more or less pleaded. On one hand, she was desperate to meet a Dwemer, a real,_ live_ Dwemer. It would be the absolute culmination on everything she had ever worked on that didn't involve magic. Every book she had ever read in her free time had been about the Dwemer, and Duncan had said this place had Dwarves. If it wasn't because Dela herself had used the word "dwarf", maybe Talia wouldn't be at her wits' end.

As things stood though, Dela had indeed described herself as a "Casteless _Dwarf",_ which meant that either two _continents_ had their own uses of the word 'dwarf', or history had been severely pulled by its leg considering the impressions Talia had gotten as to how Dwemer looked.

"…No?" Dela tried, looking for help between the rest of the human in the group. Seeing none, the Duster looked back at Talia, who was by now pulling her braids out of frustration; "What's a Dwemer?"

"…I hate you, Duncan. You're a mean man." Talia muttered to the Warden-Commander, then looked back at Dela; "Listen, it… I was wrong. Just, where I come from, Dwemer and Dwarf means a long-gone civilization of great architects and engineers." _So they probably do live in caves after all. _

"...Well, if we can move past this rather awkward start…" Duncan said, running a hand through his beard; "I assume, now that you are all here, that you're quite ready to begin preparations for your Joining."

"Which I still wanna know what is." Talia huffed, taking a step away from Dela. Probably best to get some distance after _that_ screw-up.

"Of course, only if Alistair is finished riling up the mages?" Duncan's words were pointed at the poor man standing next to him. He just got an easy smile in return;

"What can I say? The Revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army."

"Is she a healer?" Talia asked. Most priests and priestesses she knew of were capable of healing, so it wasn't even a dumb question. Of course, it didn't seem like that sentiment was shared;

"Not really, no." Daveth mused.

"You will have two tasks, for your initiation." Duncan started; "You'll be heading into the Kokari Wilds, where you'll need to fill four vials of Darkspawn blood. One for each recruit. Then, you'll also need to find an old Warden archive in the Wilds. It has recently come to my attention, that when the archive was abandoned, important scrolls were left behind."

Talia picked up on the 'scrolls' part, but her excitement died when she processed Duncan's words. There was no way an old archive would hold the scrolls needed for them to return home. And besides, she wasn't going anywhere until she found Brelyna and J'zargo. Even if she had to travel across the damnable continent to track them down.

"The Kokari Wilds… why does that sound so damn familiar?" Talia muttered. There was _something_ about that name that rung a bell, but she just couldn't place it. Figures, she finally knew something, and her mentally challenged mind kept her from remembering.

"According to the First Enchanter, that is where the templars found your group, Talia." Duncan said. The mage almost fell on her ass at that. They were all the way back here? Had she really been hauled across the land twice now? Piss, if it wasn't annoying how people yanked her around without a damn map. Then again, Duncan knew she had wanted to escape, and she already sort of_ did_ have the horse-part down.

"So, that means there's a chance they'll be somewhere out there?" She asked, hopeful that her friends would turn out to be close. Then, came the tug at her heart. What was she even going to say when she found them? _Hey guys. Those men who caught us killed Onmund in a sick ritual while I was snoring on a bed? _

It would probably be less emotionally horrible to just jump off a cliff.

"I doubt it. If they did escape, they would be far away by now. If not…" Duncan trailed off. Him not saying more only added to the fear in Talia's heart. That her friends were dead. It was supposed to be impossible, she knew. J'zargo was an arrogant ass, but he was a _bad_ass when the chips were down. And Brelyna… who on Nirn would ever harm that girl? _Templars, obviously…_

"Alistair. I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can." Duncan said. Alistair nodded and looked to the rest of the group, while Duncan watched not unlike a tutor examining his pupil's behavior.

"Alright, everybody get that?" Alistair asked, looking at the group. Talia huffed and shifted her feet as she realized she was the only mage in the group. She'd hoped she wouldn't be, as her reserves were drained fairly quickly in constant use. And she had a nagging feeling that her abilities would soon see a lot of use. Still…

"What's so important about those scrolls?" Aedan asked, beating her to it. Again, she wasn't all too beat up about it, considering every word he said was a victory won over Howe's treason. It meant he was healing, if slowly.

"They are old treaties, compelling the other races of Ferelden to assist the Grey Wardens against a Blight. With the state of things now, we need them more than ever." Duncan explained. Ah, that _would_ make a lot of sense. And, it wouldn't really hurt to have a lot of races backing up the Grey Wardens.

"What's the blood for, though?" She asked. The fact that they would be draining their enemies of blood wasn't as unsettling as the fact that Duncan wanted them to bring it back. Some macabre token, maybe? Duncan's eyes went sad for just long enough that Talia caught it, then reverted back to his normal 'stoic and unbeatable' look;

"It's a vital part of the Joining. I'll tell you more when you return with the vials."

"Fine." Talia resigned, blowing away a strand of hair from her nose. Wrinkling at it would just be _too_ awkward when around Aedan. And a lot of others, of course; "Vials of blood and scrolls. Got it."

"Then watch over your charges, Alistair. I have full confidence you're going to fulfill your tasks." Duncan dismissed them. Alistair, being the leader, took point towards the exit leading towards the forests stretching beyond. As they passed the armorer, Talia stopped and looked at the man there.

Then, she hurried off towards him. Aedan was the only one to even notice she'd left, and had Alistair slow down. Talia, in the meantime, was bartering with the armorer to repair her hood. If he made armor, it should be evident he could fix her clothes too, right?

The armorer seemed annoyed at being disturbed. He was in the process of verbally chewing out an elven messenger, though Talia didn't know what for. Didn't matter, she wasn't there to play friend to every person she came across. Instead, she waited brushed past the elf and straight up to the man in charge.

"The hell do you want, can't you see I'm busy?" Yep. He was pissed. Still, Talia wasn't to blame, and as such she didn't care much more than that.

"My hood got ripped by an arrow. Can you fix it?" She said, holding out the piece of clothing for the man to inspect. He took a look at it, eyes narrowing in thought before he simply scoffed;

"Get out of here, girl. I'm not about to waste my time fixing your _clothes."_ Talia wanted to kick him between his legs for the tone, but kept up a friendly mask. Had to, or she'd end up hoodless. Instead, she plucked a Septim from her satchel and held it up;

"I can pay for it." At that, the man's eyes seemed to change. Likely, it was the promise of money that did it. Figures, greed was always easy to find in the world, no matter the country. Still, it would mean her hood was fixed, so moral wasn't important; "It's gold."

"The hell kind of coin is that? Not a Sovereign, I can tell that much."

"It's a Septim, it's- Listen, it's pissing _gold_, alright?"

"I don't care what it is. I don't have the tools to melt down gold, and I can't use that there in shops. Keep your shiny coin, and your hood." He said in a very not-kind tone; "Now get the hell out of my store, I have business to attend to."

"What was that all about?" Aedan asked as she resumed her place with the group. Talia bristled and briefly considered snapping at Aedan, then thought better of it and sighed;

"My hood got ripped back in Highever. I wanted it fixed because the enchantment only really works when it's intact and on my head." She said. There was no way in Oblivion she was having some mage help her with it, because that would mean having to return to the Circle's people. Something she'd rather pet a Skeever than do. Still, she was proud of herself. She had completely refrained from planting her foot in the man's balls, however satisfying it would have been.

"I see." Aedan hummed, tapping a finger on the hilt of his sword, the very same sword he'd received from the guards back at the castle. They walked towards the exit in silence after that, the only interruption being when Turk started playing around with a small group of other Mabari near people known as "Ash warriors", though Talia didn't get an explanation for the name. Alistair seemed more or less determined to march them all off as quickly as possible, which could be blamed on the waning sunlight.

As the group neared the gate, Talia cursed. Something, which Aedan picked up on as the only one. Dela did too, but didn't seem to pay it any mind;

"Piss and Blast…"

"What?" Aedan said as Alistair marched them past the gate, and out into the start of the Wilds. Talia huffed, holding up her hands;

"I just remembered that I had a pair of enchanted gauntlets back at the College. _That'_s why my magic ran dry so quickly." She really felt like kicking her own shin at that realization. In fact, it should have come to her the moment she touched something with her naked fingers. _But of cooooooourse I had to be all 'oh, what is this place, oh, how_ good_ I didn't hit the statue. Piss…_

"Gauntlets?" Aedan seemed surprised. Talia didn't really blame him for it, since a lot of people didn't expect someone like her to play around with enchantments. Mainly because it required the soul of something alive to enchant weapons or assorted gear. _Wasn't there some rule that one could never steal the soul of a human or an elf because it's abhorrent? _

"Just because I'm a mage doesn't mean I just wear robes, you know… I had some gauntlets of steel, meant to help my regeneration of magica, but…" Talia sighed; "They are on my bed-side table, in the Hall of Attainment, back at the College…" Probably right next to the troll-skull. Why was that _thing_ even in the dormitory of an adolescent?

She owed steel-cuffed boots too, but they were stuffed away in the wardrobe. Probably. Talia hadn't really dressed to kill or be killed when Tolfdir called for an excursion. _Akatosh, next I'll forget my robes altogether._

But _gods_, it was annoying to be stuck without her proper gear. Why hadn't that even come to mind earlier? _Right… Onmund died, met handsome noble, treason…Those things._

"For some reason, I'm not all that surprised." Aedan mused as they walked the paths through the forests, his armored boots making heavy, soft thuds in the ground where they left deep footprints. Talia's own boots left comparably shallow imprints. Yet another thing her footwear wasn't meant for.

"That I forgot my gear back home before a scroll misfired and shot me across the… wherever Thedas actually is in relation to Tamriel?" She muttered, stuffing her hands inside the folds of her robes. When that didn't keep out the cold, she opted to simply rubbing her palms with fire. It worked, and helped her build some better reserves simply by using magic.

"Now that there's a neat trick." Daveth commented. His own hands were busy checking the end of an arrow as he walked. Aedan blew a puff, though he lacked the hair to make the gesture meaningful, like when Talia did it.

"Actually it's more the part with you wearing armor, that I'm not surprised at." Aedan admitted. He still hadn't really smiled, but sometimes Talia had gotten him close enough that his lips would crease. It was a start. She sighed in something akin to defeat, though she didn't really know why;

"Yeah… Oakflesh is about the only spell from Alteration I know how to cast, and it only goes so far to keep my skin intact." Talia said, rubbing her hands. The flames constantly streaming were starting to be felt in her reserves, but on the level she was making use of, it was little more than a prickle.

"Alteration? Like what?" Aedan said as they rounded a bend, and the path started taking a turn downwards, while also losing the dense trees all around them. Talia extinguished the flames and focused. It took some mind-bending, going from two almost opposite schools of magic. Still, she wasn't a newbie at this stuff.

Her hands flared briefly with the green energy, before it dissipated from her palms and instead coated her entire body beneath the robes. It was always the weirdest sensation, when her skin, like the name implied, practically went from soft human to hard tree. And yet, she kept the flexibility. Ah, magic. It really was awesome at times. Aedan just stared, most likely because she gained a faint, green glow when the spell took effect.

"You look… green?" He tried. Talia smiled, taking it as praise. And also as a funny reminder of Brelyna's more or less failed experiment a few months back. Though she had to admit, failed or not; being a horse certainly gave her a new insight on what went on inside those cretin's heads. Mainly, it was how uncomfortable the floor was beneath her, and how scary the blue well in the center of the dormitory suddenly became.

She reached a hand towards Aedan, suddenly feeling a little awkward about her actions;

"You can feel my skin, if… you want. I mean." She offered with a low voice, trying to avoid someone else from the group hearing her. Aedan touched the back of her wrist with his finger, tentatively at first. When he seemed to note the odd texture, his entire hand tried feeling for itself. There was very little in the way of her actually feeling his touch, awkward as it was, since her skin now had the strength of wood. _Wait… how did this…_

Talia was suddenly aware that Daveth was looking, and smirking, at them both, and thus she retracted the hand fast enough that Aedan almost fell in surprise. She hardly noticed his surprise though, as her mind was split between Daveth's intrusion, and figuring out why she had even started with the whole 'touch Aedan' thing. First thing first, though.

She sent the archer a mean glare.

She wanted to maybe kick him in the butt for making her feel awkward, but was interrupted when Alistair shouted in alarm, while also drawing his sword from its sheath. Aedan did the same and moved up next to him, probably even without being able to _see_ any threat. They could all _hear_ it though.

"Great… _wolves."_ Talia muttered. Snapping her palm open with the purple energies of Oblivion, she summoned Two-Sock out from his rest. She didn't even know if he _was_ resting when not with her, but that was so far besides the point that she didn't care for it.

"Mak- what is that?" Alistair yelped in a slightly undignified response to suddenly seeing the ethereal Familiar standing guard next to Talia. She just smirked in turn, enjoying the awkward reactions Two-Sock garnered. The wolf in question stood guard by her side the moment it was summoned, bristling with the hairs on its back standing.

"Two-Sock." Talia said quickly. She could hear other canines now, growling, howling and yelping somewhere up ahead. _That doesn't sound like just one of them…_

Alistair seemed like he would have wanted to inquire more, but the fact that Talia, from her spot at the back could now see the wolves as well, meant they were too close for him to lose focus. She counted at least ten of them, a rather large pack. If there was _one_ point in the recruit's favor though, it was that the sloping path was narrow, with a steep hill on one side, and a just as steep decline on the other. The wolves would have to come at them from only one direction.

"Daveth, take the hilltop!" Alistair called. Talia's eyes tried following Daveth as the archer seemed to shift through the group and onto the small outcropping on the left side of the slope, allowing him an advantage of height. That was about all the attention Talia offered him, as she instead started moving to the left as well, making use of the fact that where the path widened just before the slope, there was enough room for her to stand.

The pack of wolves running towards the recruits, teeth bared and black fur bristling in the wind, were struck before they even reached their goal.

One, the leader of the pack and the largest of the animals, found an arrow planted in its eyeball. The metallic tip and shaft bored through the delicate eye, penetrated the thin bone that was the socket, and pierced the animal's brain. It died before it even hit the ground, tumbling forward from the momentum it had built.

Behind it, the rest of the pack reacted to the kill with animalistic outrage, howling and snarling even more as they charged forward. Furry ears turned on the run, trying to figure out why the sound of fire was coming closer with far greater speed than they themselves were running.

Those contemplations, however intelligent they were for wolves, were interrupted when bolts of loose fire impacted two of the wolves closest to the edge. The unnatural flames immediately burned away the fur, then the skin of the animals before reaching the flesh beneath. Each animal howled and yelped and whined in agony as their bodies were set ablaze, fire eating through their flesh and organs with no stopping it. One mis-stepped in panic, and fell down the side of the slope.

It didn't get back up.

The other struck tumbled into its running packmate, spreading the fire before succumbing to the flames itself. As the nerves, and by extension its brain simply gave out from the pain, the animal gave a last, agonized whine before crashing to the ground, already with its ribs bared and boiling organs falling from their places.

"Two down!" Talia declared, already busy sending a fresh pair of flaming bolts at the animals.

Daveth only replied by shooting a wolf in its body, tumbling the animal in its tracks. After that, the pack reached the recruits. While Two-Sock was hesitant about leaving her side, Turk instantly took the opportunity for blood, and charged the front-most wolf with, his powerful jaws opened wide. Alistair was right next to the Mabari, as was Aedan, both swinging downwards, their blades cutting through the skin of the wolves. Though they did not kill as intended, the injured animals attempted to run away. Oddly enough, both found a dwarven dagger suddenly cutting tendons, then slicing throats.

As the pack thinned, it became clear to the animals that the fight would end badly. Those capable of doing so, ran, leaving their wounded to be killed. Which they were, as Turk tore the throat from the last one alive. His mouth came out bloody and with bits of fur stuck between his teeth, but with a lolling tongue despite it all.

Two-Sock was only better than that because he allowed the blood and bits to simply pass through deliberately, offering a proud bark that he had kept Talia safe. She rewarded him the only way one really could with a companion that required neither rest nor food; a scratching behind his ears. Two-Sock simply lolled his tongue and looked, sans the ethereality, like a completely normal, happy hound.

"Okay… so, can I ask what _this_ is?" Alistair said, stepping closer to Two-Sock. Talia huffed, having expected people to ask questions when they saw strange, new magic. Or just magic in general; "Because I am fairly sure I'm seeing a wolf-ghost getting a scratch. Or, did I just hit my head?"

Talia couldn't help but giggle, obscenely girly in her eyes, at his awkwardness and odd sense of humor. Alistair seemed a decent man, even if he was apparently goofy.

"Seems like Conjuration isn't really that known here in Ferelden, huh?" Talia asked instead of answering. Alistair looked briefly confused before he managed to process the words;

"Huh… Didn't realize there was a kind of magic like that. Funny, how things turn out. So… what exactly _is_ this… wolf?" Alistair didn't seem certain of his own words, and Talia smirked before she gave Two-Sock a final pat and allowed him to touch snouts with Turk. She didn't answer immediately, instead waiting until Alistair seemed to give up and lead the group down the slope.

"Not a wolf, per se." She started; "Two-Sock is my Familiar. You could say he's a part of my soul, yet also something I wrought from Oblivion."

"Oblivion sounds all ominous and dark." Daveth commented; "Never heard of it."

"I guess you haven't spent much time around Tamrielans then." Talia replied, smirking at her own little bit of mysterious air. Except for Dela and Aedan, the group stared at her in confusion. Aedan, because he already knew a bit, and Dela… Talia didn't know why Dela didn't seem to care. The small woman (and Talia still couldn't get herself to call her a dwarf. Dwarves were supposed to construct automatons and metal cities underground, not small, rouge-ish people) simply glanced at Two-Sock, shrugged and picked her blades clean for fur and blood.

"Riiiiight, because that made so much more sense." Alistair said sarcastically, sheathing his own blade. He still kept the shield though, and Talia noticed it seemed little more than wood with hide covering it, whereas Aedan's shield was iron. Funny, how people chose weapons; "Aedan, know anything about that?"

"I'm not telling on her, Ser Warden." Aedan said, offering a sincerely apologetic answer. Talia could still see the truth in his eyes though, that he was secretly enjoying the mysteriousness as well, and- when had she started knowing his thoughts? _Piss, I can't do that- be with him is- Just shut up, brain._

"Just 'Alistair' will be fine. Alright, time is running. Let's find ourselves some Darkspawn, shall we?" Their leader said, rolling his shoulders as they progressed across the marshy ground. For minutes, they walked through shallow waters and sunken ruins, many of them striking Talia as oddly familiar.

Her mind was trying to figure out what was the cause, when their group took a turn, and came upon what looked like a wrecked battlefield. Dead humans, as well as a horse lying with its belly cut open, "decorated" the only patch of land leading through the marshy waters. No one spoke, as each thought his and hers. It wasn't until Talia spotted one of the supposedly "dead" men moving, that her mind's gears started spinning again.

"Darkspawn, probably…" Alistair muttered, even as Talia knelt beside the wounded man. He had the same armor that all the other soldiers in the camp had, which meant he was one of the king's men. Why were they even out here?

"Help…Fi-finally…" The soldier groaned, clutching his side as he lay.

_Didn't matter_. He was bleeding, but most of it was from superficial injuries. Her hands felt over the man, uncaring if it looked odd. Talia wasn't a good healer, not even a mediocre one, but she could still feel and sense what injuries the man had. _Odd… I haven't seen this kind of infection before…not here at least…_

There was something in his blood, like a poison. Most of it seemed to stem from a nasty scratch he had acquired in the side, where his hand was clutching. Without bothering to ask permission, Talia pried his hand from the wound. _Well…Piss…_

The skin was torn beneath the mangled splintmail, and the wound itself was yellow and blue, swollen with infection. She'd only seen this type of wound once or twice before, when there were well-detailed pictures of wounds sustained from a confrontation with those damn Chaurus's. The poison went into the bloodstream and would start dissolving a person from the inside. But, there was more at work here. This, obviously, wasn't the work of a chaurus. There was the tint of magic there as well.

"What did this, and how?" She said, trying to make her voice as gentle as possible. There were dark rings beneath the man's eyes, and he was sweating profusely. He was running a high fever, that much was certain. _Piss that I'm out of anything I could make a potion from…_

It just seemed her luck.

"Darkspawn… big- big one. It ripped right through-gnh… my armor." This wasn't really anything she could do something about. Not long-term at least. But, she could seal the wounds, help the body fight whatever infection it was. _It'll have to do…_

"Lie still, and if you start yelling, I'll _hit_ you." The man nodded fervently, both panic and relief in his eyes. Really though, healing only hurt the healer, if anyone. And it was only because she sucked at it.

Talia closed her eyes, forcing her usually destructive energies to change into those of creation. Warmth spread through her body as the initial reaction was to heal herself. She forced it down, channeling it into her hands. She still had the ruptures from last time, when it had been Ser Gilmore, so the pain was less intense when the crossing energies ripped open her skin. _Still hurts like a bitch though…_

She ignored the surprised gasps or comments from the group as she closed the man's injuries, including the ones she couldn't even see. Being untrained, the energies pretty much washed over whatever part of the man needing healing, with the effect that the healing went slowly and slugish. Talia found it sort-of amusing that healing a few wounds tasked her far harder than killing a score of armored soldiers.

"There. Piss off back to camp now before you drop dead." She muttered, slumping down on the ground. Undignified or not, she needed to sit. The soldier, looking like he'd seen a Divine, or whatever these people saw as a protector aside from their Maker, got to his feet and started stumbling back the way their own party had come.

"That was…impressive." Dela mused; "Didn't take you for a healer." To which Talia just held up her bleeding fingers;

"Am _not._ Proper healers don't hurt themselves when healing. He's still dying, some sort of infection, but he should be able to make it back to camp on his own." She scoffed, panting; "Piss, that took more out of me than I thought."

"A bit harsh, wasn't it?" Aedan asked, looking after the soldier as he vanished around the bend of the path; "He's probably more scared of you than the Darkspawn now."

"You try ripping open your own fingers before pouring your life-energy into someone else, see how _you_ feel _then_." She bit out, washing the blood from her hands in the shallow waters. While Aedan seemed to consider her words, Talia healed up her own wounds. _That_ at least, she could do easily.

"I've seen a few mages in my time…Not meaning I'm _old_ or anything…" Alistair said; "But thát kind of healing right there… is new to me."

"Does make a pretty light-show, though." Daveth added, smiling. He seemed to be constantly in a good mood, even while cleaning his own arrows in the water. For some reason, it brought to mind the book Brelyna had been wanting to buy from Enthir, the "Art of summoned weapons" or something. It was all far above her own level, so the interest had never really been there.

"So…" Talia said as she stood; "what now?"

"Well, we're still only in the outskirts of the Wilds. We should see if we can't find a band of Darkspawn first." Alistair explained.

"You almost sound like they'll just waltz up to us." Dela quirked, cleaning a nail with the tip of her dagger. Alistair merely shrugged;

"Who knows, they might volunteer to donate blood and we can all go our separate ways happy."

"Yeah…" Aedan said, looking at the dead soldiers; "I don't really hold my breath on that one."

Again, Alistair merely shrugged as he took the lead, taking care to say a prayer for each dead soldier they came across. Talia didn't particularly _like_ horses, but the frothing covering the dead horse's face meant it had been alive while its guts were pulled out. She averted her eyes at the realization. _Bastards…_

The group marched on through the marches, encountering no life but a stray wolf, which made itself scarce when Talia hurled a bolt of lightning at its feet. The way it whimpered and ran with its tail between its legs made her proud that Two-Sock was infinitely more brave. And petable. Because he totally was, which was just all the more reason to take notice from him when the wolf suddenly stopped and growled.

Turk mirrored him almost instantly, revealing something that seemed to be a planned ambush. It failed now, obviously, as the dogs discovered the attackers, but what suddenly stormed from the bushes still caught Talia's breath in her throat. _By Namira! What the Piss are those?!_

Five humanoid creatures, at first almost looking like deceased orcs walking, were closing in on them, keeping their distance once close and instead opting to stare down the recruits. Talia's hands were ablaze before the creatures even came close, ready to kill them with fire. And plenty of it.

"Darkspawn. Keep calm, and be ready." Alistair said, his voice even and collected enough that Talia would have suspected he had somehow noticed the Darkspawn before Two-Sock, had she herself not been occupied with trying to avoid attacking out of instinct. Just was, usually when undead-looking things with swords were running at you, it meant bad news.

Only two seemed to appear human, with their figures being almost like a muscled man. The difference, and gods was there a difference, was that their eyes were orange slits, their skin rotten and their mouths filled with sharp teeth. _So, now… I think I get why Alistair didn't like fighting these guys. _

Still, Draugrs were _far_ more disgusting, not to mention scary. These looked more like undead thralls of humans and orcs, though the orc-ish ones were almost as tiny as Dela. "Genlocks" then? Seemed like it would be the only ones small enough to be.

The apparent leader took off towards the Wardens, and got a bolt of flame in his roaring mouth for the trouble. Surprisingly, it didn't kill him, as much as it threw him on his ass. Talia's violent thrill was short-lived though, as the leader, armored in something almost reminding her of a yellow Chaurus's chitins, jumped back on his feet. The rest of the Darkspawns engaged as well, with the smaller variants making use of bows instead. Figures, that they'd cheat. Still, Talia's attention was solely fixated on the leader, who was running at her with a brutalized face, hungry for blood. _Kill it with fire! Kill it with fire!_ Her mind screamed, even as the freak came too close for her bolts to be effective.

Two-Sock leapt at it, his fangs chewing into the creature's throat. The Familiar brought it down, though he was thrown off when the leader instead punched the wolf in the snout with a spiked gauntlet. Two-Sock dematerialized with a whimper, and Talia's eyes burned with rage.

_"BASTARD! NO_ _ONE_ HITS MY HOUND!" She screamed, pouring fire as she ran. It didn't even occur to her that she was just a second away from being impaled, instead simply grounding her teeth as she kicked the abominable bastard in the leg, just where the knee-joint was. Supernatural monster or not, bone was bone, and bone snapped out of place when kicked sideways. The Darkspawn snarled in anger, swiping at her with the long, serrated blade in its hand. Talia punched downwards, stunning its wrist with a hit to the upper arm. It didn't make the monster drop its blade, or even stop, but it did cause it to miss her head, instead bashing her face with its thick, muscled arm.

She kicked again, snapping the other knee out of place, effectively forcing the creature to its knees. Again, she kicked and threw it to the ground. She didn't even feel the claws racking the back of her leg, simply ignoring the pain over the wrath. The fight ended when she punched the Darkspawn in the face, grabbed it and released the flames up close. Skin, fat and even bone was burned away at the sheer intensity, leaving the headless Darkspawn dead on the ground.

* * *

**I think I'm falling in love with Talia's character. She's so much fun to write, especially when keeping people in the dark on purpose.**


	9. Foreign Magic

Those who had sought to claim  
Heaven by violence destroyed it. What was  
Golden and pure turned black.  
Those who had once been mage-lords,  
The brightest of their age,  
Were no longer men, but monsters

_-Threnodies 12:1_

* * *

**Foreign Magic**

* * *

Odd. The skies had moved a lot closer than before. Also, the skies now seemed to be made of wood and hanging clothes. That was even more odd. Of course, nothing could really measure up in oddity to the fact that they had been picked up by a giant bird. Why were there giant birds in Cyrodiil?

Brelyna didn't understand a whole lot of what was going on now, what with the headache still plaguing her mind. It wasn't nice, not even close actually. Still, someone had at least put her in a bed, and there was a nice sheet covering her as well. So, she was with nice people, or maybe they were at an inn, and she had just forgotten about it all. Strange. Really strange.

Though it probably meant Talia was somewhere nearby, getting drunk. Likely with one of the boys.

With a groan she didn't bother hiding, Brelyna sat up in the bed and looked around. The first thing she saw was that she was alone in the room. Or, actually that wasn't true. She heard him before she saw J'zargo, sleeping in a bed just next to hers. Why hadn't she noticed him before? He was missing his robes, at least the ones covering his chest, where instead thick bandages covered most of what she could see. Had it been Onmund, Brelyna admitted to herself, she might have blushed at seeing her classmate uncovered. Dunmer were a lot less liberal with how and when they loosened their clothes. As a result, before she even managed to ponder over how cute and fuzzy her usually brash and slightly arrogant classmate was (because he just looked like a sleeping pet-able fur-thing) Brelyna then noticed something else, quite to her horror.

She herself was in a state of more or less undress. Her robes were all but removed, leaving only her thinnest, grey garments covering her smallclothes. She suppressed the 'eep' of panic, but didn't waste a second's hesitation or thought before diving beneath the rough spun covers already hiding most of her body. _Azura! Why am- where are my clothes?!_

Where on Nirn was she, that people had seen fit to remove her clothes, and _who_ had even done it? She couldn't imagine Talia having done it. She liked the Breton, but sometimes the older girl really seemed afraid of touching others. Brelyna briefly contemplated if maybe Onmund had done it, and blushed until her skin turned almost purple, before she remembered that J'zargo had grabbed her when some strange soldiers attacked them. He hadn't… J'zargo _hadn't _seen her without- The thought alone almost made her want to die. But it _did_ make her want to crawl into a hole. Or maybe just give the Khajiit a what-for.

"So, you are awake at last, girl." A voice said. It was a woman, Brelyna could tell that much before she even saw her. There was something _strange_ to her accent, like she spoke slowly on purpose. When Brelyna saw her, it was as if her own state of undress was more or less made irrelevant.

"Wh- where? What?" The girl, or woman, the age was hard to tell, was leaning against one of the beams by the wall, her chest covered almost only by a piece of crimson fabric hanging from her neck. Brelyna tore her eyes from the sight, enrapturing as it unsettlingly so was.

"Fear not I suppose, since you likely do. You and your cat-friend are safe, and in no danger of being left for the Templars." And why was she speaking so odd? It was like she reversed her own words before talking. Strange. And what was 'templars'?

"Ehm… Hello?" Brelyna tried meekly. Her head was spinning and even keeping her eyes open was proving more difficult than it should have been.

"You are what they call a Dunmer, are you not?" The older girl asked. She had something of the same glint in her eyes that Brelyna remembered seeing in Talia's eyes from time to time. It almost seemed like this girl, sans skin-coloration and obviously different origin, could have been related to the Breton girl.

"Yes, my name is Brelyna Maryon… Where are we?"

"T'is my bed, which you are sleeping in, thus this, is my home. You are a long way from home, Maryon." There was an air of detachment around the girl as well, now that Brelyna thought about it. Still, with their location somewhat disclosed, she had more pressing issues on mind before anything else.

"What happened to J'zargo?" She asked, looking at where the Khajiit was sleeping. Luckily, there didn't seem to be any blood on the bandages, but their presence alone was enough to unsettle her.

"Mother found you both passed out, right next to a dead bear. What happened, I know not, but _his_ claws were bloodied. One would almost think he fought the bear, idiotic as the notion is." The girl said. Brelyna wished she knew her name, but the surprise at what she had been told took her too much aback to process her own ignorance on the older girl. J'zargo had fought a _bear_?

She knew the Khajiit was nearly fearless, plus he was arrogant, boisterous and didn't want to accept help in any form when it would require him to admit to it. But to have fought an actual bear? Surely there had to be another way things had happened. J'zargo could easily outrun a bear, she knew that. So why by the House would he have endangered himself against a bear? It didn't make sense.

"Who… who are you?" She asked after a minute of silence, most of it spent trying to figure out if J'zargo really had his ego so far up his behind that he would take on a bear.

"My name is Morrigan. That is all you need to know for now." So, she wasn't the most friendly then? Pity, Brelyna liked meeting new people, and their probable savior should be one of them.

"Morrigan? Do you know what happened to my other two friends? Talia and Onmund?" She asked meekly, afraid that she was going to be told the most horrible news. Morrigan's expression was merely curious;

"Mother only returned with the two of you, so I do not know. Were they mages as well?"

"Yes. Though I doubt you could find two more different people." Brelyna admitted. She did feel a little victorious as well, though. She'd managed to make Morrigan interested; "Onmund is kind and he's always so calm and in control of what he's doing. Talia is… a bit less so."

"What are you doing so far from Tamriel?" Morrigan's question made Brelyna's mind flare into alarm. _So far from… Where are we?!_

"What do you mean?" She demanded, a tone people rarely heard from her. That didn't matter anymore. J'zargo was injured and now this Morrigan-woman said they were _away_ from Tamriel? Had she landed them as far away as the Summerset Isles? _Oh Azura…_

"I only mean that Thedas would seem an odd destination for mages. The authorities here do not share your homeland's look on magic." Morrigan seemed amused at the contemplation. Brelyna was less so; "T'is slightly less… amiable, one could say."

Brelyna resisted the urge curse. She _never_ cursed. Cursing was for people who preferred to employ violence over smarts, or people who just liked violence as a solution. On that note: What had happened to Talia and Onmund?

She hoped they were okay.

* * *

"NO ONE!"

She kicked the dead body of the Darkspawn;

"_Fucks_!"

She kicked it again, even as adrenaline was starting to wear off.

"With my Familiar!"

She kicked it one last time, then slumped to the ground. She didn't even care to take notice of her surroundings, instead just glaring at the dead creature before her. _That's a rule now: "Don't. Fuck. With Talia." or Two-Sock, for that matter, but that's the same thing here._

As the adrenaline faded, she started noticing something warm on her left leg. She winced when touching it, and her hand came back slick with blood. Talia's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in confusion as she pulled up her robes around her leg. A large, nasty gash was breaking the skin behind her shin, leaving multiple, thin streams of blood running down her leg and into her boot. _Piss, when did _this_ happen?_

"Well, that was fun." Daveth commented, accepting an empty vial from Alistair. Aedan got one as well, before the Junior Warden turned to Talia. She ignored the startled look on his face when he saw the blood. It was nothing but a gash, even she could heal that on her own person.

"Talia, are you injured?" Alistair said, his voice carrying just a note of worry. She scoffed at his dumb question;

"No, I am just checking my blood-pressure." She mocked, dipping her finger in the thin stream of liquid; "Yep, seems my heart works just fine, and no blockage in my veins."

"Talia?" Aedan said, his voice much more concerned than Alistair's. In a way, she liked hearing that, though she knew it was a dirty reasoning. And morally wrong, too; "What happened?"

"Bastard hurt Two-Sock." She said shortly, turning her attention back to the gash. It seemed to be infected, though she wasn't quite sure how. Still, all infections she had ever suffered had one thing in common, and a thing that her family in particular had never had issues with: they could be staunched by fire.

Aedan knelt next to her, looking at the wound, then the dead Darkspawn. Its head was spread open like a macabre flower, something Talia hadn't notice until now;

"I meant, what happened to _you_?" He clarified, his tone more than a little impatient. And worried. There was definitely worry there too.

"I killed him, but he cut my leg. Or scratched it. Didn't really notice what happened..." She explained, then added at his worried expression; "Please, I've healed myself before, and from way worse injuries."

"Might wanna cauterize it first, you know." Dela cut in, more or less invading Talia's private space; "I've heard what happens to people cut by the Darkspawn. Usually, it takes a full day or so, but the taint seems to spread from any injury you get."

Talia frowned at that. So, the blade was poisoned with the same stuff she had sensed in the soldier before? In a way, it made sense, though she had thought the danger was in the creature's claws, what with how the man's wounds were clearly from claws and not a blade. _Piss…typical, really. Sure, there's not a poisonous animal around, so let's all make up for it by sticking both weapons and hands in poison._

She blew a waft ofhair away from her face, flickering a small candlelight to life on the tip of her finger. This was probably going to hurt;

"If I scream, _none_ of you tell people back at camp. _Got it_?" She growled. She didn't wait for them to nod, though, and went straight ahead with the disinfection.

Gods, it was painful. Mage or not, fire was fire. And burning herself on purpose was not something Talia often did, so she was unaccustomed to the pain. The small flame licked her wound, causing the blood and puss from the infected wound to hiss as it evaporated.

"AKATOSH ON THE FUCK-!" Tali started to yell, but was stopped when Aedan's hand clambered over her mouth. It stopped her noise, but in the pain, she instinctively bit down into his palm. Lot of good that did her, considering his gauntlet's leathery palms. He didn't relent though, and his other hand instead took her burning finger, guiding it across her injury while her own senses started blurring from the pain.

"Easy. Easy…" He said, trying to hush her. Talia pressed her eyes shut, tears spilling out as she screamed in her mind. _FUCKING EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!_

"Ffpphiing eaay oouuaayyy!" She yelled into his gauntlet. Still, she was conscious enough to keep the small flame burning until Aedan lifted her hand away. The pain throbbed and burned, but started waning after a minute or so, leaving Talia panting, sweat running down her forehead as she leaned on Aedan.

He held her gently, giving her the time she needed to rest. It probably helped that his was a comforting presence to be held by, even if his armor was covered in black blood. Talia's own robes weren't much better. Plus, her robe-leg was sort of torn. And there was the rift in her robes where one of Howe's men had cut her. Honestly, at this pace she might as well invest in thread and needle. Seemed like she would need it.

"…_ow_." She muttered after biting down the urge to yell and curse. She lifted herself off Aedan and started bathing herself in the golden light. _Gods... so much better._

"Mages. You people are freaking weird sometimes. Or maybe it's just a human thing." Dela muttered, cleaning her blades by scraping them against the dead monster, one of the Genlocks.

"Not a human thing." Talia argued as she finished healing herself; "I know Khajiit are much more messed up in the head. Or, it's really just J'zargo." She admitted, sighing at the reminder. She wondered, where by Nirn the cat was. And just as much, where Brelyna was.

"Riiiiight, because that made sense to all of us." Alistair mused, tapping the pommel of his sword; "Anyway, why don't you fill your vial?"

"My what?" Talia asked, confused until she saw the small glass-vial in Alistair's hand, then the ones held by the others, already filled with black blood; "Right, the blood-thing."

She accepted the vial and looked at the dead Darkspawn. Killing something was one thing, but then having to take its blood was… strange. It felt wrong, even when it was something looking so inherently evil. Still, she bit down and poked the vial into the bleeding flesh. It was unnaturally cold for something only just dead, and the sensation sent a shiver down her spine. This was just plain disgusting. It was almost like draining the bone marrow from a Draugr, something she had never been capable of making herself do. It just seemed so wrong to take the dead's substance. Dead humans, at least.

Vial filled with black ichor, she plugged the small opening and handed it back to Alistair. He turned it away, explaining that each recruit should carry his or her own vial.

"Fine…" but she hated putting the foul-smelling vial down between her belongings in the satchel. Hopefully, the lavenders would help on the smell a little; "Where to now?"

"Well…" Alistair said, scratching his short-haired head; "Just a mile that way, uphill."

"Just like that? You're not even looking at a map." Dela said, looking in the direction Alistair was pointing. Talia noticed the (not)Dwarf woman was right, and that Alistair hadn't even looked at a map for the entire time they were in the forest. _Maybe Grey Wardens are more than meets the eye?_

"Well, Grey Wardens just know stuff like that. Handy, huh?" He said, giving the woman an easy smile. Talia looked at Dela, trying to figure out the small "Duster's" personality. Both Aedan and Daveth had been easy to discern, and Alistair was obviously an honest, if naïve and brave sort. Dela though, gave her pause.

Instead of commenting, Talia merely followed suit as Alistair led them north through the marsh. More and more ruins decorated the marsh, and eventually the land started becoming strangely familiar again. It wasn't until they were heading more uphill, that Talia's eyes widened and locked onto a large, broken dome of stone halfway buried in the marsh.

She stopped with a suddenness that made Daveth bump into her, causing the archer to nearly choke on his whistling. How people could be so calm and easygoing usually baffled her, but now Talia's mind was otherwise occupied.

"_That_ Dome!" She exclaimed, pointing at the ruin with enough force that small sparks were visible, playing around her fingertip; "I have _seen_ that dome before."

Alistair stopped the group, since they seemed to be in no real hurry, and looked at the ruined dome as well. He scratched his head and looked at Talia, then the dome, and then to Aedan for an explanation. When the young noble shrugged, the Junior Warden looked back at Talia;

"Ah, yeah… wait, you have?" He asked, disbelief just evident in his voice; "When? I'm pretty sure Duncan didn't take _this_ route back to Ostagar, and there sure isn't a Circle tower around here, unless I'm missing something. Usually am, so it's possible."

"Talia? Is this where…" Aedan started, trailing off as she looked him in the eye. At least _someone_ had been paying attention, she huffed at the thought. She knew damn well that Aedan was the only one around to have even _heard_ her story, so the annoyance was illogical. Instead, she nodded; "I never realized it was _these _ruins you meant."

"Well it is. Are. They _are_ the ruins. This means… that we arrived only _this_ short a distance from Ostagar? _Pissing_ Templars…"She growled, biting her lip. The rest of the party, sans Aedan, looked at her in confusion, though Dela seemed to be simply curious instead of actually interested.

"Hello, my name is Alistair. This is Dela, and Daveth. We're here too, kinda, so…" Alistair said, looking somewhere between offended and shy, though with the same humorous expression on his face. Talia just happened to not care. This was too important to waste time explaining.

"Look out for a statue, one of that woman married to your Maker." She ordered more than requested. Alistair frowned, seemingly uncertain of how to react. Good, keep him that way.

"Andraste?" He suggested. Ah, that was the name.

"Yes, her. The Maker's bride, right?" Talia said, not even caring that she was possibly (and quite probably) insulting Alistair by being so causal about his god, or was it in plural? She couldn't figure their pantheon out, not with a supposed "one" god, while they also worshipped a mortal woman. _Piss, this doesn't even matter. _

In truth, she wasn't really sure what she wanted with the stature. Confirmation, maybe? It would help, she thought, finding the place she started. Maybe bring some perspective?

"Riiiiight. I didn't realize they didn't teach this in the Circle. You know, about the Maker and Andraste?" Alistair sighed, rubbing his forehead. Talia huffed, while Dela seemed to find the whole scene more than just a little entertaining.

"Heh, never realized humans knew less about the whole Maker-thing than me." Talia sent the woman an evil glare, convening 'Suck a Horker' with her eyes. Dela only seemed to find _that_ even funnier. _Piss, this isn't a mission. It's a lethal trip with brainless fools. Well, and Aedan, I suppose…_

"Shut up…" She muttered, marching past the other recruits. Alistair had already pointed out the direction, so she saw no reason to stay idle. Finding the statue wouldn't make a difference, she knew, but it would still have been a way of tying up a loose end. Sort of.

The blast of flame impacting and exploding on the ground before her feet, carried Talia through the air before she hit the ground hard. The air was knocked out of her, and as she landed on her left shoulder, Talia could feel it dislocating. The pain was more or less numbed though, by the daze over her mind.

The skies were all she could see, even as she just registered the others running past her, towards more Darkspawn probably. Her back hurt, but the fact that she could feel it, and her feet, meant she wasn't paralyzed or anything. Good. She had no idea if she could heal being paralyzed.

"…Ow." She groaned as her breath returned to her, together with the pain in her shoulder; "Ow...ow, ow, OW! PISS!"

"Talia, you with us?" Daveth's voice came from somewhere above her, out of sight. She turned her head, suddenly seeing the archer as he was firing arrow after arrow at a rather impressive rate. He fired one last arrow, then knelt down and propped her up. Talia yelped in pain as the dislodged shoulder was disturbed, something Daveth picked up on; "You got banged up there, eh?"

She looked ahead as the archer propped her up. At the top of the hill, Aedan, Alistair and Dela were busy carving a path through a lot more Darkspawn than the small ambush they'd fought earlier. It seemed like they were handling themselves just fine, until one of the Darkspawns at the top of the hill threw a fireball at them. Talia's eyes widened in fear as she saw Alistair stumble backwards, but Aedan being completely thrown off his feet, tumbling down the hill. Dela suddenly was nowhere to be seen.

But her focus was on Aedan. _No, no no no no. Not another one. Not him._

Aedan came to a noisy stop a dozen feet away, and Talia, biting through the pain in her shoulder, hobbled to where he lay. Hobbled? Huh, seemed like her ankle was hurt as well, though she couldn't care less. She didn't _want_ to get to Aedan. She _needed_ to get to him. Onmund was dead. Brelyna and J'zargo were both lost and gone, maybe even dead as well, and if Aedan now died too, Talia didn't know what she would even do.

But it didn't matter worth shit. Because Aedan wasn't going to die. She wouldn't allow him to die. She forbid it, even as a small amount of relief found her. Aedan was getting back on his feet, if groggily, picking up his sword as she reached him.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, beating her to it. She wanted to hit him, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Didn't matter.

"Me? You just fell do- Are _you_ hurt?" Talia cut herself off, trying to gauge if his limbs were bending the wrong way, or if he was bleeding.

"No, I'm fine." He stated, taking off on a run towards the fight. Alistair was, amazingly, holding his own against three of the humanoid Darkspawn, managing to both parry and swipe at them without getting murdered. As Talia ran, she healed herself the best she could on the run, but achieved little more than numbing the pain in her ankle. Her left shoulder was still more or less useless.

"Great. That's good. Piss, Of_ course_ the cretins have mages. Even Draugrs do, so why not these guys?" She huffed in frustration as she skirted sideways instead of straight ahead.

Heads on would be dumb, seeing how a single arrow could find her then. Running, she snapped up her right hand and threw Two-Sock into existence. The Familiar came into being at a run, teeth bared as he leapt at the Darkspawn. Talia kept skirting, throwing out bolts of fire with her one working hand. She focused on the Darkspawn mage, standing out like a sore thumb due to its staff and feathered head-garments.

And the Darkspawn mage focused on her in turn, dispelling the flame bolt by whacking it away with its staff. Talia growled, spinning around to avoid the fast sphere of energy traveling towards her. It still hit her though, leaving a scorch mark on her robes. Talia silently thanked Magnus that the enchantments on her robes worked, as she really rather not fought naked.

She "cooked" the bolt in her hand before hurling it at the Darkspawn. Once more, it simply swatted her attack aside, snarling at her as they fought, sending attacks above the rest of the group. Talia wanted Two-Sock to take the mage's attention away, but the Familiar was keeping Aedan safe, taking down the Darkspawn getting to the noble's back. She didn't want to remove that net of safety. Still, the bolts of energy flung _at her_ hurt, enchanted robes or not. It felt like being hit with a cudgel every time a bolt connected, and every bolt did. _Piss, might as well try._

Forcing up her left arm, Talia called upon a spell she hadn't bothered using since Tolfdir's very first lesson with them. As with the other aspects of Restoration, she had never spent much time trying to get better at it, and as a result, the ward she threw up was flimsy at best.

It _did_ still block the next bolt, aimed at her chest, and allowed her to send out one last bolt of fire herself. Then, her reserves were just about done for, and the ward drained her remaining magica faster than she could end the spell.

The Darkspawn mage laughed, an _evil_ laugh, and swung its staff again, fire burning at the end of it. It was cut short though.

Most likely by the arrow sticking out of its forehead.

The mage groaned, then slumped to the ground. Dead as a toenail. Talia had never understood _that_ particular Nord expression, but it was what it was. Daveth had saved her ass. Probably. She could have found a way to beat the thing anyway. Still, Daveth _was_ indeed a skilled archer when he could make that kind of shot.

Talia panted, looking at the fight taking place. She was too exhausted, not to mention utterly drained, to even attempt joining the fight. Not that she had to, though. Aedan and Alistair, as well as the two canines with them and the not-Dwarf were cutting down the few remaining Darkspawn. Dela jumped onto the chest of one, burying both her daggers in its body before yanking a hatchet from Arkay knew where, splitting open the skull with a clean chop. She rode the Darkspawn to the ground, pulling free the axe as the momentum sent her running. Somehow, there was a new Darkspawn in her way, its back turned as it was battling Aedan.

Said back was then perforated with a pair of _new_ knives, before the spine was split with the hatchet. Alistair and Turk brought down the last of the creatures together, ending the fight.

It was odd, how silent everything was right after a fight. Just before, creatures had tried their best to kill her, and now all Talia could hear was the panting of her companions, the clatter of armor and the slowly returning birdsong.

"Well. Nothing like a brush with death..." She sighed, dispelling Two-Sock, after a good ear scratching of course, to conserve a bit of magica. It helped, but not much. Still, it was enough that she could start working on her ankle, which was still sprained. And hurt. The shoulder hurt too, but the ability to walk would take priority here.

"To make you not like death much?" Alistair suggested, smiling with a bit of pride as he looked at the group; "Gotta say, I'm impressed so far."

"What, because we're not dead?" Talia grunted as her tissue healed. The feeling was nowhere near as unpleasant as healing others, instead feeling a bit more like standing in the sun. Only, just with her foot. It was strange, yes, but if it felt strange, but worked, it wasn't strange. Colette's golden rule, that one.

"More because no one started screaming 'oh no, monsters' while we fought. Even hardened soldiers fear the Darkspawn, you know."

"So Students of Winterhold are more badass than your soldiers?" Talia smirked, but it turned into a frown of pain as she moved her shoulder. The sharp stab of pain made Aedan frown with obvious, and cute, concern; "Figures…need a moment."

"Talia? Are you hurt?" Aedan said, moving closer with clear worry. Talia just forced a smile out through her teeth. It _did_ hurt, but no reason for him to worry. He shouldn't have to in the first place. It was funny, in a way. Talia realized this now, when her body hurt and Aedan was concerned for her, that maybe she wasn't so much to blame in the end. For Highever, that was. True, if she had just been quiet, they might have heard the sounds of fighting earlier than they did, but… on the other hand. Had she never been there, Aedan might have been asleep and Howe's men would have killed _him_ too. _Aedra, I hate my mind sometimes._

"Please, I took on Draugrs beneath Saarthal. This…" Talia huffed, biting down on her lip as she instinctively moved her left arm. It hurt a lot; "Is nothing really. I'm fine."

Aedan looked like he wanted to speak, maybe speak against her claim, but he held his tongue and looked down instead. Talia knew what he was probably thinking, that he was sick of the way she played tough. Well, she _was_ tough, so he could stuff that line of thought.

"Hey Alistair?" Dela's voice came from somewhere up ahead. Alistair, who was still next to Aedan, Turk and Talia, turned to look at the woman. Talia groaned. _Okay, fine. Let's just call her a Dwarf._

"Yes, what?"

"Those scrolls, were they supposed to be in some sort of chest? I hope not, 'cause it's kinda broken and empty." The way Alistair's head spun, made Talia almost worry he would get a whiplash from it. Instead, the Warden ran towards the dwarf faster than a human should be capable of. Talia didn't really mind, not now at least. Her ankle was healed again, but the shoulder was a bit more difficult.

"Ready to walk?" Aedan asked in a low tone, still seemingly worried about her. Talia punched him on the shoulder, but regretted it immediately when she delivered the punch with her left fist. _Ow._

"Suppose. Let's see what's wrong." Talia got up and rolled her right shoulder, not stopping the flow of healing energy. It was starting to become unstable, as her reserves were drained, but her body wasn't going to deteriorate just because she stopped the healing. She wasn't even _bleeding_, for Mara's sake.

As it turned out, what was wrong was that Alistair and Dela, plus a more or less confused Daveth, were standing above the broken remains of an old chest. It almost looked like something had smashed the container with a club the size of what giants used. Then again, giants were peaceful, why'd they attack a chest?

It spoke of the mild delirium the pain was giving her, that Talia didn't even notice the almost naked girl at the top of a ramp in the corner of the ruin. To her credit though, she almost didn't flinch when the girl spoke;

"What have we here?" The girl asked, obviously amused; "Are you a vulture? A scavenger, poking amidst the bones of a corpse long-since picked clean?"

"Well…This is new." Talia muttered under her breath. She didn't fail to notice that those in the group who widened their eyes the most, were also the ones classified as 'male'. Figures, really. Men always thought with the little head, amazing as it was that mother had been right.

"Or are you merely an intruder? Coming into these Darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

"Wouldn't call them Darkspawn "easy"" Daveth commented, complete with air-quotations. Talia blew a huff of annoyance that their task was now going to be interrupted by some forest-living witch. Because it was fairly obvious that the girl was a witch. Not a mage, but a witch. There was a stark difference between the two, that most people didn't think extended further than one living indoors, the other in the forest.

"What are you, hmmm? Scavenger or intruder?"

"We're neither, you know. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower." Alistair said, stepping forward. The girl scoffed at his words;

"T'is a tower no longer. The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse. I have watched your progress for quite some time now. 'Where do they go?' I wondered 'Why are they here?'" The girl said, walking through their group with little care for whom was in her way, until she stood on the debris, looking over the rest of the marshes; "And now, here you are, disturbing ashes left untouched for so long. Why is that?"

"Don't answer her, she looks Chasind. That means others could be nearby." Alistair said in a low voice.

"Oh, you fear barbarians may swoop down upon you?" The girl asked, obviously making fun of Alistair. Talia decided she didn't like the girl, but approved of her sense of humor. It was enough to make her lips crack a small grin.

"Yes… Swooping is bad."

"She's a witch of the Wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads." Daveth hissed, for once seemingly frightened. Talia wanted to tell the man that there was no magic that could turn a person into a toad, though there were Daedric powers capable of doing so. Or, wait. Did Brelyna's experiment not do almost that exact thing with her?

"Witch of the Wilds?" The girl asked, in slow, patronizing tones; "Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no mind of your own? You there, mage. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine. Let us be civilized."

It suddenly struck Talia that the girl was talking to her, and she snapped out of her self-healing attempt, instead looking at the witch. Would it be terribly dumb to tell the witch her name? By all rights, Talia knew of no magic that could ensnare you by only your name. Then again, she hadn't known of any simple spell to drain a mage of power with a simple clap. Ferelden had… many surprises.

"Talia." She said, deciding not to reveal her surnames. She'd given one name, and that would have to suffice. A flash of something passed over the other girl's face, though it vanished even quicker again.

"See? We can be civil, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan." Morrigan said, crossing her arms before her chest; "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest. Something that is there no longer, hmm?"

"'There no longer'? Did you steal them? You _did_ steal them! You're some kind of… sneaky… witch thief." Alistair exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Morrigan. She merely snorted, and did it completely dignified too, before looking at the rest of the group;

"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite _easily_, it seems." Alistair pressed, his voice hard as stone; "Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

Talia looked from Alistair to Morrigan, trying to figure out _where_ on Nirn she could be hiding them. If she even had them, that was. It wasn't as if a person living in the forests would have much use for treaties, and besides, there were _nowhere_ she could be hiding them, sans maybe…_No. Nope, nope, nope, Not going there. If she's hiding the scrolls down there, she can bleeding keep them._

"I will not, for it was no I who removed them. Invoke a name that has no meaning here any longer if you wish. I am not threatened." It wasn't all that hard to find out that just about every word Morrigan said to Alistair bore some level of mocking or contempt, though Talia wasn't entirely sure why. True, he accused her of stealing, but Morrigan hadn't really done a great job of appearing innocent. Talia though, was starting to feel a headache coming, and she wasn't interested in sticking around for the entire day.

"Then who _did_ remove them?" She groaned, rubbing her temples.

"T'was my mother, in fact."

"So… take us to her, maybe?" Talia suggested, trying her best not to sound pissy. Truth was, she _was_ pissy. Because she had a headache that just wouldn't go away. Probably something from the infection earlier she hadn't managed to clean out completely. Piss as it was, she'd just have to heal herself the best she could, then see if the healers back at camp actually were worth their salt.

"Now there's a sensible request. I like you." Morrigan said, her voice oddly _kind_ when she spoke. Talia felt slightly unnerved by the compliment. Something, it seemed, Alistair shared;

"I'd be careful if I were you." Alistair whispered; "First it's 'I like you', then _zap_, frog-time." To which Talia shrugged. She wasn't _that_ worried, mainly because she believed herself capable of freeing herself from something like that.

"Hey, I've already been a horse, a dog and a cow. Frog wouldn't be that big a change." She offered, giving the slightly(maybe) older man a confident smile. Alistair just blinked and started trying to form words. Nothing came though, and he seemed in the end to just decide upon being quiet.

"She'll put us all in a pot, she will. Just you see." Daveth panicked, though he seemed like he was trying to suppress it. Talia scoffed, a little annoyed at the archer's ignorance on that account;

"Daveth… human flesh has almost _no_ alchemic properties." She said. It wasn't true, as human flesh was said to be a good component in a magica-potion, but no need for him to know that; "I also don't think she's a cannibal. So calm your piss down."

"Follow me then, if it pleases you." Morrigan said. Without waiting for them to speak, she turned and started walking. Talia looked at the others, trying to figure out if they were going to follow or not. Her shoulder was no longer giving her an absolute hell, but at least her thrumming headache made up for it.

Yay

* * *

"We've been walking for _hours_ now. Do surfacers normally do this much walking?" Dela complained. With those short legs of hers, Talia could see the problem.

"We've only been walking for half 'n hour, Dela." Daveth said, adjusting his bow over his shoulder. Talia didn't really bother getting involved in the dwarf's complaining, so she let it be. Instead, she focused on healing her headache, which was still beating her temples like a drum on skin.

"You try walking in heavy armor with my short legs. See how you feel then."

"Which is why I stick to being light and nimble, you know?" Daveth grinned. The fright from earlier seemed to have evaporated at some point, and it honestly helped his behavior that he wasn't constantly scared of being turned into a toad. The idea of such a spell _was _tempting though, Talia had to admit that.

"Yeah, yeah. At least I don't have to run away when one of those Emissaries turn up. Immunity for the win, right here." Dela proclaimed, thumbing her chest. That _did_ make Talia curious though;

"Immunity to what?"

"Magic, of course. Dwarves have no connection with what you humans call the Fade, so we don't get to dream like you do. As a bonus, no demons ever come for us, and magic doesn't really do a much of a thing." Dela bragged. Talia hummed, unsure if she was ready to believe that Dela, just because she was a Dwarf and didn't dream (also, what the hell was sleeping anyway if you couldn't dream?), was immune to magic.

"Feel like proving that to me?" Talia inquired, igniting a bolt of fire in her left hand, now useable again. Dela smirked, but shook her head;

"Sorry girl, but now ain't really the time. Tell you what, you can try it out when we've tried that Joining-thing. Also… just so you know, the immunity is really just a saying. Just that_ most_ times, the spells don't work on us. Dunno why." Talia just smirked and nodded. She hadn't for a moment believed that there really was such a thing as a complete resistance to magic. Even the legendary Dragonskin of the Breton people wasn't perfect.

Her attention, as they walked through old, ruined gates, was drawn to a headless statue of Andraste, standing a silent guard near the marsh. As the group continued to walk, an old, and odd house came into view.

* * *

**I think we all know what's about to happen. Not sure it will be very pleasant for any involved mage, what with news and all, but then again, when has something ever been pleasant when dealing with a Blight?**


	10. The Blood that binds

The one who repents, who has faith,  
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,  
She shall know true peace.

_-Transfigurations 10:1_**  
**

* * *

**The Blood that Binds**

* * *

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you five Grey Wardens." Morrigan said, extending her hand towards Talia and the others. Turk, who hadn't been mentioned, gave an indignant bark to make sure people knew he was there too. Talia narrowed her eyes as she looked at Morrigan's "Mother". Sure as Hell wasn't because there was a big similarity between the two witches.

"I see, child. Hmm… much as I expected." Morrigan's mother mused. Talia groaned, as did Alistair. She'd had more than enough of fortunetellers from her one visit to Whiterun with that Lilith-woman who claimed to know people's futures. Of course, she demanded an outrageous price and constantly bragged about how well standing she was. It had been about the only time Talia had wanted to punch an old lady in the face.

"Are we supposed to believe you expected us, now?" Alistair said.

"You are required to do nothing, boy, lets of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide. Either way, one's a fool" The old woman said. Talia pulled on her braids, trying to stop the groan from surfacing. _Just get the scrolls and let's get out of here before she turns out to be a Hagraven or something._

"She's a witch, I tell you. We shouldn't be talking to her." Daveth hissed, taking a step backwards before Dela punched him in the waist, the highest place she could reach, and made him stop.

"Shut it, Daveth. If she's really a witch, I don't see why you wanna piss her off." The dwarf said, hands idly touching her knives. Morrigan's mother chuckled. Or cackled. It really was more of a cackle;

"There's a smart girl. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decide. Believe what you will." Morrigan's mother, as of yet unnamed which annoyed Talia, said. Then, the old crow turned to Talia; "And what of you? Does your magical insight give you a different viewpoint, or do you believe as your comrades do?"

"I am not stupid, if that's what you're saying." Talia huffed. She might have come up with a better response, had her headache not decided to return almost as soon as it had been banished.

"Stupid, is refusing to accept new truths, or is it refusing to see the old ones? I can never remember." The old woman said, chuckling again; "So much about you is uncertain, Talia, and yet I believe. Do I? Why, yes I do."

"So… _this_ is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair asked, amused from the sound of his voice. Talia didn't really care though, as she was trying to figure out how the old crone knew her name. She certainly hadn't told her, and Morrigan hadn't said it while they were there. A magical mind-link, maybe? Magic did seem to have different workings in Ferelden than in Tamriel, nigh-impossible as the thought was. J'zargo had once said that magic was the same everywhere, a statement Talia had believed true. But now? Now she wasn't so certain.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon." Morrigan's mother said, finishing her sentence with a throaty cackle. Morrigan seemed more than a little embarrassed, and palmed her forehead;

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother."

"True. They came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious seals wore off long ago. I have protected them." Morrigan's mother said, almost proudly. Alistair seemed to be taken aback at that;

"You-!...Oh… you, protected them?"

"And why not? Take these to your Grey Wardens, and tell them this Blight is a bigger threat than they realize."

"And… just how do you know this?" Talia found herself asking. It wasn't on purpose, but the question was sound enough.

"Tell me, girl. Look at me. What do you see?" The question came so suddenly that Talia nearly ripped off her braid in surprise. She stuffed it behind her ear and looked at the old woman; "Not a Hagraven, I do hope."

"Funny, that was actually my-… Wait…" Talia's eyes widened. Morrigan's mother_ knew_ about Hagravens? Then, she knew about Tamriel? Was there actually a chance that the so far most batty old nut they'd come across would be the first person to have decent geographical knowledge? "How… do you know about… _How_ did you know my name?"

"Oh, do not look so alarmed, girl. Not all of us are so bound to the earth that we do not see what goes on beyond the ocean."

"Who _are_ you?" Talia gawked. Her mind was racing the speed of a Saber cat, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Morrigan's mother sure wasn't a normal woman, or even a normal witch, that was for certain.

"Oh yes, I have not introduced myself, have I? Why, it seems I haven't. The people of this land calls me by many names, names _you_ would not know. You may call me Flemeth, though, if you so desire." Flemeth mused, her wrinkled eyes shining with entertainment. The name didn't ring any bells.

"Sorry, doesn't ring any bells. But, how did you know my name?"

"Oh, a little bird sang." Flemeth mused; "Morrigan, child. Would you ask our guest to bring the scrolls out?"

Morrigan nodded, though she looked mildly annoyed at having been demoted to a messenger. Talia wasn't sure if she really cared that there were more witches around. She still wanted to know just how Flemeth knew what she did, since no one else in this blasted country seemed to know about Tamriel, or even the Divines. One would thing some of the Aedra would be a little annoyed at having been replaced with an omnipotent "Maker", but if so, they didn't seem to care enough to change things. Or, maybe this "Blight" was Namira's way of getting back on Thedas. _Do Divines "hire" each other for jobs?_

"The timid one, mother?" Morrigan said, hand on the door. Flemeth merely nodded, and Morrigan disappeared into the house. Talia turned back to Flemeth, many more questions on her mind.

"Flemeth, do you know what Tamriel is?" She tried. She honestly didn't really expect a yes, since everyone else in the blasted hole they called "Ferelden" seemed adamant nothing existed outside of their own continent. Instead, Flemeth cackled;

"Do I? Why, it seems I do know. I have spent some years there, after all." The old woman laughed. Talia was torn between taking a step back from the obviously half-mad woman, and taking a step forward to press her question. She ended up standing still. A compromise, of sorts.

"Do you know where it is? From here, I mean. I haven't been able to find a map, and no one…" She gestured vaguely at the group; "…seems to know _what_ it even is."

"Oh girl, you do know how to brighten an old woman's day. You yourself know where Tamriel is from here, you just don't know." Flemeth mused. Talia blinked, trying to figure out if she was developing a bad hearing, or if what Flemeth just said was utter gibberish. She decided on the latter. Before she managed to ask again though, the door to Morrigan and Flemeth's house opened.

And Talia's heart skipped a beat.

There. Right there, in the doorway. In all her red-eyed and grey-skinned glory and adorableness, with her hood down to display her own dark buns of hair, was Brelyna. The Dunmer stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Talia, and for what seemed an eternity, no one spoke. Then.

"…Talia?" Brelyna was the first to speak, sounding as if she was unsure what she saw. Whatever she was going to say after that didn't matter, as she didn't have a chance to say it. Talia abandoned any notion of dignity, and flung herself at her friend, ending up tackling her to the ground.

"Divines! Divines, thank you! Thank you!" Talia didn't care for appearances, and cried as she held Brelyna. The divines had actually _listened _to her prayers. They had _listened_! And now she had Brelyna. She had her best friend right here. Alive. Unharmed and perfectly safe.

"Talia. Talia! I can't- can't breathe. Please, you- are- crushing me!" Brelyna choked out. Talia realized she was clutching Brelyna far too fiercely, and relented a little. But, only a little. She couldn't speak. She couldn't say how relieved, how grateful to the Divines she was, that her friend was alive and safe.

"Well… this is unexpected." Alistair muttered from behind them. Talia didn't even bother acknowledging his presence at the moment though. She was holding Brelyna, and Brelyna was, more or less confused, holding her as well. Talia's eyes were wet with tears as she pressed herself against Brelyna. If the Dunmer had an issue with it, she didn't show it, and simply allowed Talia to rest her head on her shoulders.

Talia was probably making a fool of herself, but right now, she couldn't care less. It was only after a full minute of crying her eyes out, that she managed to regain the ability to think, and even then it took a while for her mouth and sore throat to work again.

"…_Where…_How?" Talia fumbled for the words. She noticed with a little shame that she'd managed to completely mess up Brelyna's hair. She wiped her eyes and sat up, not caring in the slightest that the ground was wet and dirtied her robes.

"I am… honestly not sure myself." Brelyna said, smiling even with her hair now in tangles and covering a bit of her face; "I lost consciousness after the attack, and woke up here."

"And… and J'zargo?" Talia's joy over seeing her friend-thought-lost, was now slightly replaced with dread. Had J'zargo been killed, or was he here too?

"He's asleep." Brelyna said, smiling; "Morrigan told me he fought a bear. Can you imagine?"

"Odd as… it sounds. Yeah. I can totally imagine him fighting a bear." Talia giggled. Gods, she hated her giggle, but now she didn't care _what_ she sounded like. Both J'zargo and Brelyna were alive. And here. She'd found them. She had actually _found_ them.

Brelyna glanced at the group behind them, most of them giving her odd looks. Talia caught her look, and knew what was to be asked. And said. All her joy turned into ashes in her mouth, and she waited for Brelyna to speak.

"Onmund… isn't with you?" Brelyna asked with a cautious, small voice. This was slowly breaking Talia's heart over again. The gods had a cruel sense of humor, that they let her find her friends, only to be the messenger of horrible news. She bit her lip and shook her head, feeling the tears press on again. This time though, they weren't tears of joy. Far from it.

"Is he… waiting somewhere else? Close by?" There was a hint of both fear and hopefulness in Brelyna's red eyes. Talia watched in agony as the fear started winning over; "…Talia?"

"…No. He… isn't close- Onmund…" The words tasted like slime on her tongue as she said them; "I lost him. I lost him, Brelyna…He's dead."

If she had ever seen Brelyna's eyes retract from the world, from reality, this was it. The girl's eyes widened in utter, raw horror, her mouth gaping in a silent scream. The corners of her eyes were already watering, and Talia did the only thing she could. She pulled Brelyna into her embrace, and held the girl as she started the grieving, Talia herself had screamed out in the Tower.

"Dead or alive, weeping surely serves no purpose here." Morrigan said. Talia's breath stuck in her throat, and she turned her face towards the witch, even as Brelyna weeping continued. The glare she sent Morrigan was enough to make the wild girl shrink back and be silent. Good. Shut her up if she could only spout cruelty.

Talia found herself in a position she wasn't used to be in. She had never been the one to hold and comfort people when they broke down. That had always been mother who did that. Now, now she herself was holding her trembling friend as she mourned Onmund. _The gods… I am not sure if they are cruel or good. I find my friend, but devastate her at the same time._

"Talia?" Aedan's voice pushed through her barrier towards the rest of the world. She looked up at him as he knelt beside her. There was no disbelief or fear in his eyes at the sight of Brelyna, a girl who had been labeled 'abomination' by those serving Ferelden's god. Instead, there was only sympathy in his brown eyes. She could see he wanted to help, but there wasn't anything he could do. Talia shook her head slowly, and Aedan nodded before returning to the group. Daveth was the only one still standing, likely because he was still nervous around the witches.

"How? How can he be dead?" Brelyna demanded, her voice hoarse already. Talia stroked Brelyna's hair, doing the best she could to comfort the girl. How could she even begin to explain what had happened?

"The soldiers… took us to a prison for mages. They… killed him there." Talia whispered, holding Brelyna as the girl's crying rose in volume, and the Dunmer screamed her grief into her robes. Talia just held on, allowing her friend to cry it out. Tears were flowing from her own eyes, but she refused to cry. The rest of the group simply watched in silence.

It took the next ten minutes for Brelyna to cry her throat and eyes out, and when Talia tried helping her to her feet, the girl wobbled and collapsed the moment she let go. Aedan, once more out of nowhere, stepped up and helped Talia get Brelyna to her feet. Gods, but she hated herself for this shit. She wanted to let Brelyna cry and curse and have the peace she needed, but knew it wasn't possible. There was a war going on, and the gods had now held their part of the bargain, meaning Talia had to hold her own.

Could she bring Brelyna back to the camp? She wanted to, she wanted so desperately to never leave Brelyna nor J'zargo on their own again. But at the same time, she knew she couldn't bring them. The templars had labelled them abominations instantly, and she had seen both Circle mages and templars at the camp. There was no way she could think of that would let her bring her friends back to the camp, and be able to promise them safety.

The world was a shithole when it presented the terms like this. But it was what she had.

"What… what happens now? How will we get home? I don't have any- I don't know what to do, Talia." Brelyna whispered. It was all she could, and her voice came out like her throat had been ripped open.

"I don't know. The people in this land will see you and J'zargo as monsters, and I can't bring you back with us to the camp, because there are more of the soldiers there." Talia muttered, though she could see that Brelyna, in her horror and grief, didn't understand what she meant; "I prayed, that if I bettered myself, if I helped people, that the gods would keep you and J'zargo safe. I promised to… to help fight a _war_ if it meant your safety."

"…what?"

"Stupid, I know." Talia muttered, trying her best to smile; "I was just so desperate, and it seemed the only thing I _could_ do."

"Then… then are you going to leave us? Here?" Brelyna's voice was small and scared, and it shredded Talia's heart to listen to it. Especially because that was _exactly _what would be safest for them, and exactly what she was planning to do. If J'zargo had fought a bear, he was likely injured. And Talia would rather leave him with witches than allow the mages from the Circle, or Arkay forbid, the templars from going near either of her friends.

"It's the safest thing." Talia bit her lip as she nodded. She hated herself, and the hatred was only intensified when she saw the bereft look in Brelyna's eyes. Once, she had thought it weird to have red eyes. But Brelyna… Talia didn't know how to even finish that line of thought. Instead, she hugged the girl again; "Please. Just… just stay here. I'll come find you later."

"But…But what will you do?" Brelyna's voice was pleading; "Are you going to fight in… in…"

"A battle, yes. But you know me, right?" Talia tried smiling; "I never back down. I'll be right back here. With you, and J'zargo." She said, releasing Brelyna from the fierce hug. The Dunmer girl looked absolutely destroyed, but managed to wipe her eyes and look at Talia;

"Just be careful, Talia. Don't promise to be back and then go die. I can't…" For a moment, it seemed Brelyna was about to start crying again. Instead, she hung her face down and whispered; "I couldn't take it. Not after…after Onmund."

"Hey. I know this is shit, but it's the best I can do. No one's going to say you're here. You'll be safe, at least." Talia said, doing her best to comfort her broken friend. She looked at Flemeth, not caring if the old woman was mad or not; "She can stay here, right?"

"Certainly, why not? I need some proper company, and my dear daughter lacks a sense of humor." Flemeth sounded amused.

"Thank you, mother." Morrigan muttered, annoyed, obviously. Talia just nodded her gratitude. Not just for letting Brelyna stay, but for her friends being alive in the first place. Now words could express her feelings, and as such, she simply kept quiet. She looked back at Brelyna, who had slumped against the wall;

"You'll… be back, right? _Promise_ me, Talia." Brelyna pleaded. Talia took her hands in her own palm, and held Brelyna's head with the other. Touching her forehead to Brelyna's, this was the only thing she could do;

"I promise. If a dragon got in my way, I'd still be back." With that promise, Talia left her friend behind at Morrigan's house, even as the witch led them back the way they'd come.

No one spoke on the walk, not even Dela complained at the distance. Talia kept looking back the way they'd come, somehow hoping that Brelyna defied her and followed. And at the same time fearing the very same thing. When the group reached the ruins of the archive, Morrigan slipped wordlessly away, leaving them where she had found them.

No one seemed ready to start the walk back to camp, even with both blood and documents secured. Instead, all eyes were on Talia, as if expecting an explanation for the previous encounter. They probably _did_ want an explanation, she knew. It tugged at her heart, knowing that she willingly departed from Brelyna, leaving the girl with complete strangers. And yet, it was the better alternative. After Morrigan was long-gone, Alistair seemed the first to speak;

"I… am not really sure how to ask this, so…if you don't mind me asking, Talia. Who was that girl?"

Talia huffed, looking at her feet. She was embarrassed. Why was she embarrassed? She should be happy, the gods had granted her prayer, so now she just had to fulfill her end of the deal, if one could even call it that. Even if it meant throwing herself against an army of those monsters, she would do it with a smile and fierceness, as long as it meant the safety of her friends.

The truth, she decided, was what she had to offer as a start to fulfilling that deal.

"Her name is Brelyna Maryon. We're both from the College of Winterhold, as is J'zargo, who was sleeping inside that house. We came here, accidentally, when a scroll misfired and sent us here, to the Wilds. Before we even knew what had really happened, templars from what you call the "Circle" tracked us down and attacked us. Onmund, our last classmate and friend, and I were caught, while Brelyna and J'zargo managed to flee. Until now, I… until now I thought they were both dead." Talia breathed, feeling the headache return. She was sweating too, now, and it bothered her that her healing couldn't stop it.

"I'm confused. I thought you came from that Circle at Kinloch Hold?" Daveth said, scratching his chin-hairs.

"No. I only met Duncan there because he happened to be meeting with that son of a dirty whore _Irving_. I would have murdered Irving, but Duncan recruited me for some reason, and I escaped."

"_First Enchanter_ Irving?" Alistair said, his voice holding mild disbelief; "Why would you want to kill him?"

Talia suppressed the snarl that came when people mentioned Irving in respectful tones. It took all her focus not to shout her next words out;

"Because he put Onmund and me through a sick ritual. Onmund was killed when he didn't wake up fast enough." She sneered; "That. Is why I wanted to, _want_ to kill that man."

"Damn, I'd pay to see something like that." Dela commented. Talia chose to ignore the dwarf, hard as it was with the almost carefree tone the woman had.

"So…Where_ do_ you come from?" Alistair continued. Talia chewed her cheek, looking at the ruin for no particular reason other than that she didn't really care to look at Alistair right now.

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of Tamriel." And of course they hadn't, seeing how everything she'd said after the first fight had confused them all, sans Aedan who knew a little about her origins; "It's the continent where I was born. I'm a Breton, in case you hadn't figured that one out already."

"So… wait, another _continent_? Maker…" Alistair breathed, rubbing his forehead; "Okay, I suppose that's possible… Thedas couldn't really be the only chunk of land out there. And you came here… why?"

"Not _why_. How. I already said that the pissing scroll misfired or something. We were supposed to have ended up in the imperial capital, Cyrodiil. Instead, _bam_, marsh-time." Talia bit out with a bit of mocking tone, more or less copying Alistair from his first impression of Morrigan; "Then, of course we get tracked down by what you call "templars", who attack us on the spot. Next thing I know, I wake up in a pissing cell in that tower, awaiting my "Harrowing." Not. Pleasant."

"So, wait you don't do the whole "harrowing" thing where you come from?" Alistair seemed baffled. This just decreased Tali's opinion of Thedas as a whole, as his question apparently meant the Harrowing was common practice for all "Towers", or Circles or whatever the hell they called themselves in plural.

"Of course not!" Talia barked indignantly; "It's a barbaric, sick and twisted ritual! Piss! Thee College allows freaking _necromancy_, but even thát pales in comparison to what you people pull off in your towers."

Alistair blanched at that. Apparently, he wasn't ready for the idea that necromancy was the lesser evil between itself and the Harrowing. Well it was. There was nothing wrong with raising dead thrall from a bandit or any person who'd tried to murder you, really. Talia herself had never really reached that level in conjuration, but the concept was fine with her.

"So… that was Brelyna, then. The girl the templars called an abomination?" Aedan asked instead, as Alistair started walking. The rest just followed. Talia nodded, to which Aedan blew a puff of air; "…I don't get it."

"Me neither. I mean, yes, she's a Dunmer, and yes, I thought her eyes were a bit strange at first too, but…" Talia said.

"But she wasn't weird. Just a girl…" Aedan sighed, looking like he wanted to do something, Talia wasn't quite sure what; "I mean, yes she looked different, but I wouldn't ever suspect her of being a… you know."

"She's mighty cute, she was. 'Cept for when you broke those news to her, I mean." Daveth said; "I mean, odd skin aside, she's not bad…sorry." He trailed off as Talia gave him a flat stare; "Just I don't really get it either."

"I didn't even realize elves could look like that." Dela said, catching up with them. Alistair walked ahead, in - maybe - contemplating silence; "I'm sorry about that friend of yours, by the way."

"Not your fault…" Talia sighed, running a hand through her hair. She was starting to get a few shivers, like from a cold, but suppressed the annoyance from it. She'd just soldier through it if she ended up with a pissing cold now, or sick from whatever infection she was running. Felt like a fever, kinda, but then not.

* * *

As the party approached Duncan, and the large bonfire, no one really spoke a word. The previous revelations and events didn't leave a lot of desire to chat, and Talia felt that what needed to be said, _had_ been said. At least she was confirmed now, that her friends really were safe and alive. Good. It allowed her to focus.

The Divines, whichever one had been behind it, had allowed her wish, and so now it was her turn to prove that she was worthy of the gift. She didn't even care if it was going to be hard, not at this point. She would help them win this battle, then find a way to get home.

Currently, that sounded like a pretty good plan.

Duncan turned to regard them, his face illuminated by the warm fire. Talia looked at it longingly, wanting to warm herself against the constant shivers she was going through. It was pissing annoying, but still, no reason to bother the others with it. She'd find a healer, when all this Joining-thing was done with.

In a way, she was often too proud for her own good. She'd never admit this, of course, as it would compare her to J'zargo.

"Good, you have returned. Were you successful in your endeavor?"

"We were, yes." Talia said, cutting off Alistair who would no-doubt mention meeting Brelyna and the witches. Duncan nodded;

"Good. I have had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you have retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately." He said, a small note of satisfaction, as well as pride in his voice. The pride was likely meant for Alistair. Talia just wanted it all over with, but before she managed to speak, Alistair spoke up;

"There was a woman at the tower, and her mother had the scrolls. They were both very… odd."

"Were they Wilder folk?" Duncan asked with his usual patient voice. Alistair shook his head a little;

"I don't think so. They might be apostates though. Mages, hiding from the Chantry." His words made Talia's eyes narrow, ready to slap her hand over his mouth. Even if it would be seen as a physical attack, she didn't want him revealing Brelyna's location, not even to Duncan. With templars so close by, they could hear him and seek them out in the Wilds.

It was what Duncan said next, that shook Talia to her core;

"I know you were once a templar, Alistair. But the Chantry's business is not ours." Duncan's words shook Talia to the extent that she barely heard his next words. She had been running around with a _templar_ all that time? Alistair, was a templar? He _knew_ where Brelyna was, what if he told others?

"We're ready." Aedan said, breaking Talia's thoughts. His hand on her shoulder, though not easy to see in the flickering light, meant he had likely picked up on the same thing as her.

"Excellent. You will need that courage to face what comes next." Duncan continued. He didn't seem to have picked up on the change in Talia's expression, though that could just as well have been the light, or lack of same.

"Courage? How much danger are we in?" Daveth said. For once, his fright was justified. Talia herself was a bit off-put now, both by the revelation of Alistair's past connections, if they were indeed in the past, and the mention that the Joining was dangerous. The gears of her mind were shifting, processing what information she had. The headache just meant it all went at a sluggish pace.

"I will not lie. We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are…" Talia felt certain Duncan's eyes looked into hers, with a saddened expression; "Fate may decree that you pay the price now, rather than later."

That was all it took for the gears to lock into place, and the revelation was anything but pleasant as she spoke her mind;

"The Joining can _kill_ us?"

"It is a risk, yes. It is also why there are so few Grey Wardens, as the Joining takes… a certain character to survive. It is the only way to become what we are, though it may seem harsh."

"Fine, let's get this shit underway." Dela said, impatient from the sound of it.

"Then let us begin. Alistair, take them to the old temple." Duncan said, turning to Alistair. Talia couldn't help but glare at the Junior Warden. He had known all along that _she_ was a mage, but hadn't bothered to tell that _he_ was a templar? Oh, this did _not_ bode well for their working-relationship. Not at all.

As Alistair took them to the old temple, the very same place where Talia and Aedan had found him the first time, Talia tugged at Alistair's armored sleeve, causing him to look at her and frown in confusion. Before he managed a 'what' though, she beat him to it;

"You are a _templar_?" She hissed. Alistair held his hands up. Well, the one she wasn't forcing down anyway;

"_Was_ a templar. As in 'no longer'." He said; "Listen, I get that you on principle have a rather good reason for not liking templars, but I never even finished my training, much less did anything templar-ish." Talia let go of his arm;

"Fine… but I'll still keep an eye on you. Just to be sure you won't sell out my friends." She muttered. Alistair just sighed;

"Oh, the trust you have in me, it is truly humbling."

"I think I'm starting to get what that mage said about your wit and all…" Talia muttered, then walked a bit back to walk next to Daveth. The guy was nervous, even she could see that. Still, he soldiered on, just like she did.

"So…" Daveth started. He didn't sound all too happy; "Why do you think they keep testing us? I mean, we're already recruits and all, so why this here sudden 'do-or-die' thing?"

"Scared?" Talia asked, not unkindly. Daveth so far had proven a good, if smooth sort.

"A bit, yeah. Still, if it means risking my life to stop the Blight, I'd do it gladly." Daveth muttered, then looked at her; "You?"

Talia pondered for a moment before answering.

"You saw Brelyna back in the Wilds. I prayed to the gods that she would be safe, she and J'zargo. The gods now have their end of the deal hold." She hesitated before continuing; "Time for me to uphold mine."

"What was your part of this deal, then?" Aedan asked from behind her, a note of concern, as well as curiosity in his voice. Talia felt like laughing at herself at that point, considering she had completely disregarded that prayer when she was in Aedan's room. The headache currently bashing her skull in, made it a bit easier not to laugh though. Wiping a few drops of sweat from her cheek with a flat hand, she pulled a braid of red hair before answering.

"You'll think I'm pulling your legs." She told the boys, not really wanting to spill it out.

"No, come on. This is just getting good." Dela pleaded, appearing out of freaking nowhere. Talia didn't let her surprise show, though, seeing how she'd started to suspect such odd habits from the people of Fereldan. Oddly enough, it only seemed to be those armed with two weapons, who did it.

"I asked the gods, that if they ensured the safety of Brelyna and J'zargo until I found them again, I would…" She sighed at the way it would sound; "strive to be a better person. There. Happy?"

"Well shit. Beats why I joined the Wardens." Dela mused. Talia's curiosity, seeing how they were left waiting at a stone altar, was roused;

"Why?" She asked. Dela shrugged and grinned;

"There I was. I'd just won the Provings, you see, and everyone thought I was this noble-caste drunk. I beat the snot out of everyone I fought, right?"

"Right?" Daveth urged. Dela took the hint;

"So, all was fine, until suddenly, the sodding drunk comes stumbling into the arena, yelling about thievery and what-not. End of story was that the Carta locked me up, me and a friend."

"So, the Carta sent you here?" Aedan asked, amused apparently, if his tone was anything to go by. Talia would have smiled at his progress, had it not been for the way she was currently sweating curtains. Deciding to piss the extra attention, she started healing herself again. The glow made the others look, but she waved them off immediately;

"Go on, I'm just having a bit of a headache." She said. Dela nodded, though Aedan frowned before accepting her words;

"Nope. We escaped, of course. Then, I kicked the door in and shanked Berath in the process. Then the rest of Orzammar caught up, and _bam_, if Duncan wasn't right there to conscript me, I'd be deader than a boiled nug right now." Dela chucked at the last part; "So, that's pretty much my glorified origins."

"Well, we know you and Aedan now, don't we, so it's my turn I guess." Daveth mused, offering both a smile. Talia was glad, mostly for Aedan, that he didn't have to repeat the story from Highever; "I'm from Denerim, you see, and that's where Duncan found me too. Or, actually _I_ found _him_ first."

"How?" Aedan said. Alistair offered a small chuckle from where he was leaning on the wall.

"Duncan never wanted to tell me that one. Go on." He said. Daveth nodded, like a bard to his audience;

"Spotted him in a crowd. Not hard, the old bugger is taller than most. Well, I grabbed his purse, but he grabbed me at the same point. Got reflexes like a fox, that one. So, I ran, but Duncan ran after me. He's fast for an old bugger in armor 'n dress, that's for sure." Daveth seemed to enjoy the memory more than someone who'd been chased by Duncan should.

"Well he _is_ a Grey Warden. We tend to exceed people's expectations like that." Alistair mused.

"Well, he ran, but the town guard caught me first, right? Then they wanted to cut my hands off, for thievery and all, but Duncan stopped them and conscripted me on the spot." Daveth chuckled. His former anxiety seemingly gone; "Gave the town guard the finger as we left the gates behind."

"At last, we come to the Joining." Duncan had appeared so suddenly that Talia had completely failed to notice him. Then again, she was starting to have trouble seeing straight. She caught Alistair's eyes though, looking at her. He seemed concerned, but she shrugged it off. For now, he was back to being an unknown.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." Duncan said, placing a large, silvery goblet on the altar before he turned back to them; "So it was, that the first Grey Wardens drank of the Darkspawn blood, and mastered their taint."

"Wait what?" Talia coughed, out of both surprise and… why was she even coughing? Piss, that infection, or cold or whatever it was, had better keep itself in check, or it'd be annoying for sure.

"Drink… are you serious?" Dela exclaimed; "You want us to drink what comes out of a Darkspawn? I've seen what happened to dwarves who even _touched _the Darkspawns' blood. Sodding _ghouls_ is what they became."

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us. As we did before you. This is the source of our power, and our victory over the Darkspawn." Duncan explained. Talia was more or less certain she wasn't hearing straight due to her more and more frustrating condition. Had Duncan just said he wanted them to _drink_ the blood?

And people called _her_ disgusting when she ate spider-eggs.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the Taint. We can sense it in the Darkspawn, and use it to slay the Arch Demon." Alistair added. Duncan nodded, which only made Talia increasingly nervous. This didn't even make logical sense, did it? It wasn't as if she could be strong as a bear if she ate its toenails. Because she had done that. No bear-like powers yet.

Still, there was no going back on a deal made with the Divines. Especially not when they had already upheld their part of the deal. If she needed to be a Grey Warden to do that, she would be a Grey Warden, even if it apparently involved voluntary suicide by chance.

"Let's… get on with it then." She said.

"We only speak a few choice words prior to the Joining, but these words have always been said. Alistair, if you will join me?" Duncan said, looking to Alistair. Talia did too, and was surprised at the nearly religious look of seriousness on his face.

"Join us, Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us, as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." Talia glanced at the goblet, sitting so innocently on the altar. The thought that she might die from drinking of it, was disconcerting, to say the very least; "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you."

Duncan took the goblet and poured a vial of dark blood into it. He then turned and looked at the group;

"Daveth, step forward."

Talia's eyes were locked on Daveth as he obeyed. She swallowed the lump of fear that was settling in her, knowing that this might be where the jovial and good-natured man might die. It was disgusting to realize that Duncan was prepared to sacrifice them all this way, her and Aedan included.

Daveth took the goblet. Before he put it to his lips, he looked at Talia and the others, one last time. His eyes shone with both fear, and determination. Then, he put the goblet to his lips, and drank.

When he handed the goblet back to Duncan, Talia half expected him to mutter a curse, or complain that it was a disgusting thing to drink.

Instead, Daveth convulsed, shaking and trembling like he was having difficulties standing straight. His head shot back, and his eyes, even from where Talia was standing, were clear and white. The pupils and iris's were gone, replaced by the white of the eye as he screamed in pain.

"Maker's Breath…" Aedan cursed.

Talia's hands flew to her mouth, stifling the scream of horror that was trying to break out, even as Daveth collapsed on the stony ground. No one spoke a word, as Alistair checked the man. Though Talia did speak, disregarding whatever tradition was in place here.

"Is he… oh gods, is…" She pressed out. Alistair sighed from his place next to the young archer.

"He's alive. I honestly thought we'd lost him there." The former templar said, getting to his feet. He grabbed Daveth's unconscious form, and dragged him to the side where he was left resting against the columns.

"Dela, step forward." Duncan said, taking a new vial, Dela's it seemed, and emptied it into the goblet. Dela did as told, and accepted the goblet.

She put it to her lips, and drank.

Almost immediately, the dwarf looked like she was going to burst. She clutched her head, groaning in pain as she fell to the ground. Then, more or less sitting, she threw up white fluids and what looked like half-way digested meals.

Talia was ready to catch the dwarf, to prevent her from smacking her head against the ground, when Dela burped, and rubbed her temples;

"I've… had worse…I…Stone!" The last word was uttered more like an exclamation than anything near panic, and Dela collapsed in a heap. Talia breathed a sigh of relief. So far, the Joining hadn't killed anyone. Maybe things would continue to work out?

For some reason, she didn't really dare hold her breath on that account.

"Aedan, step forward." Talia's confidence went straight down the latrines when Duncan said those words. She looked on with fear hammering away in her chest, as Aedan stepped up. She watched in ever-growing fear as he accepted the goblet, and when Aedan collapsed on the ground, twitching, she felt ready to join him.

Alistair knelt down to check him. _Gods, please Gods let him live. I beg you, let him live and I'll kill whatever Duncan asks me to kill. I'll kill the Arch demon myself if you only allow Aedan to live!_

After a few moments, his head lifted from Aedan's chest, slowly shaking.

And Talia's world broke down.

"I am sorry, Aedan." Duncan muttered. Regret was steeped in his voice, but Talia didn't give a shit. Aedan was on the ground, _dead_ according to what Alistair said. _No. No, no NO! _

"Talia, step for-"

"No! No! AEDAN! AEDAN GET UP YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Talia screamed, throwing herself at the still, young man. There was no reaction, but _fuck_ the gods themselves if they thought to stop her like this!

"Talia, I am sorry, but-" Duncan tried. Talia didn't even pay attention to his words. She didn't even notice him anymore.

Giving Piss and Oblivion in the consequences, she ripped off Aedan's armored chest-piece, ripped off his shirt, and planted both hands on his bare, muscular chest. The fact that she was now touching him didn't even faintly register in her mind.

Duncan wasn't talking anymore, nor was Alistair. Talia wouldn't have listened anyway.

"Don't leave me like this you bastard!" She yelled, hands ablaze with healing energy. Blood was already dripping down her hands, her skin rupturing as she poured everything she had into him. There was no response, and Talia bit through tears, headaches and decreasing visibility from tears as she pressed down on his chest, hands nearly slipping straight off as the slick blood coated her hands.

"I won't let you leave me! I can't take this shit alone!"

Again and again, her hands came down on his chest, practically and literally pouring her own life into him. She bit through the pain as the skin on the back of her hands broke, and more blood started washing over her hands, and _Aedan's _chest.

The consequences were already felt, as her feet went numb after the first minute of relentless cursing and healing. Talia had never hated her own arrogance as much as she did right then and there, when her reluctance to learn healing now had her sobbing, screaming and suffering over the body of a man who had been more of a friend to her than any other in this new, messed up and cruel shithole of a land.

"Come back to me you asshole!" Talia cursed, pressing down hard enough that she could feel a rib crack beneath her hands; "Come. Back! Come. Back!"

There! Life! She could feel it, ever so faint within him. Weak, flickering like a dying candle, but by Arkay, it was there!

"Come on!" She yelled, exchanging one hand of healing for electricity, and not even noticing doing so; "Live! Come back!" She hit him, square over the heart with enough shock to kill a dog. No response, but the increased flicker in his energy. She hit him again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

She hit him again, and her hair stood into the air as the electricity coursed through her as well. She didn't even know what she was running on, her reserves should have been depleted already. And yet, she didn't care. She just hit him again, and again, with electricity and life-force, forcing him back to the realm of the living.

She didn't even care if it was supposed to be possible or not. She was _making_ it possible, so the gods could shut up and sit down if they didn't like it.

"LIVE!" She yelled, and hit him again. The small flame burst into a bonfire in his chest, and Aedan's eyes flew open, as did his mouth, and vomit started spilling out. Talia hauled him onto his side, and let the vomit leave his mouth, rather than choke him.

With that, she fell back, and collapsed into blackness herself.

* * *

**Well... so, that happened.**


	11. Welcome to the Wardens

Welcome to the Wardens

* * *

"_LIVE!"_

Everything, and nothing at the same time, came back in a jolting rush. There was someone screaming, or yelling, he couldn't really tell, and immensely painful jolts shook his body. Then, the world came back, as well as the image of a hunched over, sweating and bleeding Talia.

He didn't have a moment to contemplate that though, as the next moment signaled the rioting of his bowels, and his stomach lurched upwards into his mouth. He coiled up and vomited, spewing out whatever it was. It tasted like shit, no other words could do, and had the slimy consistency of aforementioned substance. Maker, it was horrible.

Strong hands, stronger than a woman really should be possessing, pushed him onto his side as the vomit started filling his mouth, and the bile escaped, flowing over the stony floor. As soon as the bile had cleared his throat, Aedan heaved for air, pulling down a burning gasp that hurt all the way to his lungs.

Then, there was the sound of a body collapsing on the ground next to him, and Aedan managed to more or less turn his head around to look for the source. His vision was blurry enough that he only saw the outline of a fussy person on the floor, but the colors, khaki brown and light green, were enough that he realized who he was looking at. In hindsight, it really should have been obvious.

"Maker's mercy…" Aedan could hear someone, a voice he recognized as being Alistair, utter. The tone was one of utter amazement and disbelief, though Aedan right now hardly cared for the reason. Breathing hurt, and his eyes stung for some reason. Again, it wasn't his primary concern.

Stumbling to his feet, Aedan ended up falling straight to the floor again, and then opted for simply crawling towards the downed figure, merely a blur in his vision yet. When he reached her, the figure became sharper, and Talia's exhausted, sweaty face was made visible. Aedan's initial relief that she was seemingly okay, was squashed when he noticed the heavy, dark rings beneath her eyes, and the way dark veins seemed to be visible beneath her skin.

Cold fear settled in him, as he remembered what Dela had said about those touched by Darkspawn blood. They became Ghouls, and Talia had been cut. But, she had healed herself, hadn't she? Aedan had seen her both cauterize and heal the wound, Maker,_ he_ had held her hand through it! She should be fine, so why was she looking like this? Why hadn't he noticed this before now?

"Aedan…" Duncan was speaking now.

"What's wrong with her?" His voice was pleading, even though he believed he knew the answer; "Why is she like that?"

"The Taint is spreading throughout her body. At a much faster pace than we ever anticipated was possible." Duncan said, kneeling next to Aedan. He shrugged the Warden-Commander off, eyes locked on Talia's face. She was breathing, but the air leaving her accompanied throaty sounds, like her lungs were being filled with water. It hurt, seeing how pale she was.

_Maker,_ why hadn't he seen this?

"Can't you help her? Why is she like this, she wasn't like this before!" Aedan exclaimed, looking around for help. The others were still unconscious, or dead, he really couldn't remember right now. His chest was burning, and the fact idly registered that he was naked above the waist.

"Alistair, fetch Senior Enchanter Wynne from the Circle. We need to get Talia conscious in order to help her." Duncan ordered. Alistair nodded and took off without a word, sprinting down the ramp and out of sight. Aedan stared back at Duncan, then back at Talia; "I am not certain what happened, to be honest, and I don't think you will like the parts I do know."

"What… _happened_?" He croaked out, his throat as dry as parchment. His chest stung again, and he flinched as he looked down. Right where his heart was, a massive scar had formed. It was red, irritated and looked like the roots of a tree, or the arcs of lighting spreading across his chest. What had… Had _Talia_ done this? _Why_?

"...If I am to put it simply: you died." Duncan's words took a moment to register, but when they did, Aedan felt like someone had hit him with the flat side of a sword; "Talia brought you back, but in the process, I fear she took some of the taint from your body."

"What?" Aedan gaped. The sound of running feet made itself known, and Alistair came running back into the ruined temple, trying to keep up with an old woman. Aedan took a moment to realize that this was the same woman Talia had argued with when they arrived in Ostagar. Senior Enchanter Wynne? Had Talia even known this was an enchan- _It doesn't matter! _

"Where is she?" Wynne demanded striding across the circular floor. Aedan was too exhausted and desperate to look at her, and instead just looked at Talia. Her breathing was getting more and more ragged. Sweat was covering her face in a shimmering film of water, and the dark veins were getting more visible. It _hurt_ to look at, but Aedan wouldn't look away. What Duncan had said earlier still echoed in his mind, that Talia had brought him back from the dead.

Was something like that even possible?

Wynne shot Aedan a short look, as if she blamed him, then her eyes softened and seemed to read his mind;

"I will do my best." The words could have been said by anyone, but the fact that Duncan had wanted this woman specifically, must have meant that she stood a chance at saving Talia; "But understand that there are things magic simply cannot cure."

Aedan didn't have the mindfulness to mention that Talia's magic had only just now brought him back from the dead. Was there a more impossible feat? Wynne knelt by Talia's side and placed glowing, blue hands on the girl's form. One rested upon her forehead, the other on her heart. A frown of deep worry settled on the woman's face, and the glow of her hands intensified, becoming a blinding, blue shimmer.

No one spoke as Wynne worked. Aedan had yet to attempt a second stand, and he wrought his hands in worry as he was slumped on the ground. Several times, it seemed like Talia's condition could go either way, and her skin both paled and darkened as the old enchanter toiled away. Whatever animosity Aedan might have had for the woman, it evaporated the moment Talia coughed and heaved for air. _Thank the Maker…_

"Talia. Can you hear me? Can you _understand_ me?" Wynne pressed. Talia's expression was first one of pain, then confusion which then became annoyance.

"Oh _great…_ waking up to _you…"_ the girl groaned, and coughed; "What's… happening?"

"You need to undergo the Joining, and quickly." Duncan pressed, already preparing to hand the goblet to Talia. Aedan was struck with both horror and confusion at the act;

"She's tainted, and you want to make her _drink_ more of that?" He burst out. Talia's eyes widened, but Aedan saw a dullness starting to spread in them, like the life was slowly seeping from her. It made him sweat with fear.

"It is the only way to save her, Aedan. Understand that while the Joining isn't a cure..." Duncan said; "if she does not drink, the Taint _will_ kill her."

"…Give…" Talia coughed. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and her eyes had gone nearly white. Aedan felt like vomiting again at the sight, but forced it down and grabbed the goblet from Duncan's hands. Talia's lips parted in a groan; "Drink…"

Without a word, Aedan pressed the goblet to her lips as Wynne and Alistair supported her to sit upright. The blood poured, and lines of black spilled from both corners of Talia's mouth as the drink poured faster than she could swallow the bile. Aedan bit down the fear and removed the goblet when Talia's eyes widened in pain and fear. They were still white, but now the fear evident in her face at least gave them life.

* * *

Talia would have screamed, had she had strength left to do so. The drink, the _blood_ was a slimy bile in her mouth, and the moment she swallowed the first portion, the poison began its work. Her body caught fire, pain spreading like jolts of electricity throughout her body.

If there was a way Namira would toy with her victims, Talia was pretty sure this was it.

The feeling of the ichor spreading through her body, into every vein, was like no pain she had ever experienced. Every single cell in her body, and she knew damn well what a cell was, because Bretons weren't dumb, felt like it was trying to explode through her skin.

Then came the noise.

At first, it was like a beautiful, if frightening song. Gentle music playing, but it changed, into auditory torture, ripping her ears and brain apart a million times a second. Despite the lack of strength, she clutched her head and screamed. She screamed, like she had never screamed before. The agony was absolute, tearing her soul apart before sticking it back together, then repeated the act over and over again.

_Dragon._

There was a Dragon.

A huge, _undead_ Dragon was snarling, growling and glaring straight at her.

Then, as sudden as it had all started, it all ended.

The pain withdrew, the Dragon vanished, the noise quieted down and light returned to her world. Talia's senses were hurled about, like boat in the storm, but slowly, they settled. The first thing that entered her consciousness was that someone was holding her. The last person she'd seen above her face had been that old hag from the Circle, and Talia definitely did _not_ want to be held by her.

"…gop opff mmmee…" She protested. Talia found she lacked the strength to do even that. It wasn't very nice up here, in the light. And definitely not if that old woman was holding her. It would be a major hurdle in her attempt to become a better person if she murdered an old woman right now.

"Maker's beard! Talia, can you hear me?" _Huh._ That wasn't that old woman's voice. This one was more deep, masculine and yet caring instead of brutish. Wait, why brutish? Oh right, _Urag_ was brutish. Well, his speech was. Couldn't fault the guy for his origins, could she?

Did she bother opening her eyes? Meh, might as well. Even if she'd much rather just sleep, maybe it was a good, if only because it was polite, idea to open her eyes. Father always did say that one should look one's companions in the eye when speaking to them. Still, he shouldn't have tried to marry her off to that dullard shitstain from Daggerfall.

One eye slipped open, revealing nothing at first, as the darkness above her was blinding (and wasn't that a sweet metaphor?) Then, as she opened the other eye and looked around with that too, shapes began… well, taking _shape,_ for lack of more cognitive eloquences. Was that even a real sentence? Talia's mind was too boggled and hazy to figure it out.

"Where…_ow_. Noise. Too much. Noise." She groaned. One of the shapes started taking a human appearance, and one too that she knew up close. The voice just confirmed it;

"Holy..." Aedan breathed a visible sigh of relief. He still held her propped though, even while that old, berating hag started putting her hands on Talia's body. Naturally, with the history she had with the Circle, Talia flinched and glared at the old woman.

"I'm pretty sure she's not supposed to be here. Or _touching _me..." She muttered, then turned an annoyed stare at the old mage; "What, going to defend the Harrowing again? Going to berate me for wishing Irving dead? That's what… what _are_ you doing to me?"

"Helping your body recover, if you actually want to know." The old mage said in a very admonishing tone. Then, world of wonders, her eyes held something akin to respect; "What you did for your friend was not something I thought possible."

"Just shows I'm better than what you thought then" Talia scoffed and shrugged, hoping the entirely too awkward scene would turn out to just be a dream. Why _was_ she on the ground anyway? Her eyes went to Aedan. When she noticed he was bare-chested (and chiseled as if Dibella had meant him as a gift to womankind) she started remembering what had happened. The final clue was the large, lightning-formed scar on his chest. It looked a lot like a lightning, eating its way across his body in much the same way as the force of nature on the skies.

"Oh _Piss…_ I did that?" She pointed a weak finger at Aedan's chest, afraid to touch him. What if she'd brought some sort of Tamriel-only trait into him when she healed him? Maybe his body wasn't meant to hold something like that, and he could die or… but those muscles on his stomach were really _oh so deliciously looking_, Talia had to focus on not staring.

"It would have been much worse if you hadn't, just saying." Alistair put in. Right, she remembered now. It was because Aedan had been dead. _Piss, and I forgot something like that? _Really showed where she had her priorities if something like that was filed _behind_ the whole "he's built like Tiber Septim" fact. And it wasn't a good set of priotities.

"Doesn't even hurt, actually." Aedan reassured Talia, helping her to a stand. The old mage stood with them constantly casting nervous eyes at both him and Talia. It was almost like she was waiting for one of them to drop dead. Creepy, that was. Aedan regarded the old mage for a few moments, shuffling his feet awkwardly; "Thank you, Senior Enchanter Wynne."

"It was no trouble." Wynne, because that was apparently her name, reassured him. Then she looked at Talia, or to her. Whichever worked; "I'm starting to think there might be some truth to what you claimed at the Tower."

Talia blew a waft of sweaty, sticky hair from her face, only it didn't lift. Annoyed, she pulled it away by hand before looking back at Wynne;

"Piss good that does me now. Onmund's still dead, and I still blame your insane Circle for it." She said, then pointed a finger at Wynne; "_You_ might personally be off the hook, I think, if you just saved my life."

"I merely helped. Your determination, in the end, is what saved you." Wynne offered, nodded to the rest of the, conscious at least, Wardens. Then she left, probably to get some sleep. Talia spared the woman half a glance as she left, then looked back at Aedan, Alistair and Duncan. Resisting the urge to yank a braid in frustration and confusion, she instead settled for fidgeting. _Yes,_ she realized it was just something Brelyna did, and _she_ herself was never supposed to fidget. Well, she did right now. Resurrection allowed for bending of some rules.

"Well… that went more or less better than I expected." Alistair muttered. For some reason, he didn't sound overly optimistic. Talia looked from him, to Duncan and then to Aedan. The latter was idly scratching his chest, nails scraping over the scarred tissue.

"You… could put your armor back on, you know?" Talia tried meekly. Though she personally wouldn't mind Aedan remaining like this, she knew he needed to get his clothes and armor back on and ready. These weren't times for her personal fancies. Even if she might think she had a right, or at least was allowed to want something like that. She _had_ just saved his life, after all.

Her bloody arms were proof of…Why weren't her arms covered in blood? _I could have sworn my arms 'sploded all the way to the elbows… _

"Why's Aedan not wearing clothes?" Daveth's voice came from the wall. Talia turned, and saw the archer slowly starting to pick himself up from to ground. In contrast to his earlier movements, this was anything but graceful. Talia bit a small, bubbling laugh back. _Probably a lot like me after too much ale…_

"…Long story." Aedan muttered, removing his hand from the scar. He slipped on the shirt before Daveth started asking too many questions, and Talia found herself looking to Duncan for guidance. For once, the Commander seemed to have lost his composure.

As usual though, he regained it quickly, even before Dela, who was starting to wake up as well, had regained consciousness. Duncan glanced around, released a tired sigh before he looked at Alistair;

"I'll need to join the King and Teyrn Loghain for the final planning, Alistair. Can you take care of the rest here?"

"Yes, Duncan." Alistair nodded solemnly. Talia was starting to think her initial assessment of the former, (because Duncan trusted him, so she would give him a second chance) templar was wrong. Alistair seemed a great deal more intelligent, or at least serious, than he'd let on at the start. She didn't notice Duncan's change of focus until he spoke;

"I am glad you made it through, Talia. I think you, as well as your friends will be excellent Grey Wardens." And with that, he was gone. Talia stared at the ramp for a moment, arguing with herself. Mostly, it was one side of her brain yelling at the other that Duncan knew about J'zargo and Brelyna, because he'd said "friends", while the other half yelled right back that he was just talking about her now-fellow Grey Wardens.

Grey Wardens.

Grey _Warden_.

Gods, what had she gotten herself mixed up in? It was one thing to be ready to dish out a lot of fire and death, but to join some organization whose initiation required her to drink their version of Draugr-blood? It took things to a new level, that much was certain. _Piss… _

She was a Grey Warden now. What did that even mean? Would this stop her from returning to Tamriel? High Rock was, of course, out of the question after what happened at Highever, but she would like to return to the College. Everything was happening so quickly, and Talia just… she just wanted to go home, toss her sorry corpus on the bed in the Hall of Attainment, and sleep out whatever Skoma-induced dream this was bound to turn out as, sooner or later.

Still, she couldn't _taste_ things in dreams, and the blood _definitely_ tasted like piss right now. Still. It was gone, she could feel that with her tongue, but the taste remained.

"This was… I guess you could say one of the better Joinings, all things considered." Alistair sighed, putting on a bright face; "In my Joining, one of us died."

His tone told Talia what his words didn't mention. One, that he was more than pleased with her saving Aedan. Well, so was she, damn it. And Two, that Alistair was both wary and impressed by her magic. Piss, she'd forgotten he was one of those templars. Or, he had been. Piss, why was it so hard to figure out?

"What happens now?" She asked instead of letting silence reign. Dela was shaking her head behind Alistair, then pulled out a small flask from her… _Where the hell did she hide thát_?

"Well, I want to make sure you are all back on your feet, both physically and mentally. Then we'll go join Duncan for the meeting." Alistair explained. Talia nodded, it seemed the best thing to do. She eyed Dela's flask again, a bit envious of the Dwarf's beverage, whatever it was. Also she was hungry. Why was she hungry?

"Well I'm good." Dela gave a content sigh as she plugged the flask again; "Daveth, feelin' up again?"

"My head's killing me, if that's what you're asking." The archer groaned, rubbing his head; "But I'll live."

Alistair nodded in relief at the two of them, then looked at Talia and Aedan. Mostly, his focus seemed to be wavering, like he wasn't sure who to be more concerned about. Talia scoffed and blew hair from her face (she really had to get that damnable bundle of red cut away at some point.) and looked straight back at him. She refused to bow down to _Irving_, and she wasn't going to bow down because Alistair had a gaze far more intense than she'd expected. There was a hard person behind those eyes, a person Alistair could become, yet wasn't. Not yet, at least.

Combined with his apparent past as a templar, Talia didn't want that person to surface.

"I'm fine. Hungry, but fine." She said in a low tone, not showing any emotion. She didn't trust Alistair yet. Not after Duncan revealed the young man's past. Alistair nodded and looked to Aedan.

"Same here. I still want to know about the scar, but…" Aedan trailed off when he caught Talia's eyes; "It can wait."

"I guess that'll do." Alistair said. He didn't seem entirely happy though, but Talia didn't pay that any mind. He was doing what he was being told, even if he seemed to have doubts about something. She didn't know what that _something_ was. Not yet, anyways. Alistair blew a huff; "Alright, let's go join in the fun. And with "fun" I mean listen to the king and Teyrn Loghain bicker like a married couple."

"Figured the King was married to Anora. She's single?" Daveth grinned as he picked up his bow. He promptly received a punch to the waist from Dela, who looked somewhere between amused and annoyed;

"Shut it, Daveth. Even I don't talk trash about human kings, not the Ferelden one anyway. So shut with the jokes." The archer pouted, but didn't offer a reply. Talia found the exchange, strangely domestic for some reason. _And also freaking weird. I don't even… I'm not sure what's happening, but it's not boring._

"…Talia?" Aedan muttered from next to her as they walked towards the meeting. She tilted her head to look him in the eye. Odd. Hadn't he been brown-eyed before? _Probably just the lighting messing with me._

"Hmm?" She offered. Aedan seemed unsure of what to say, and before she could ask, they reached the meeting. Or rather, what was left of it. Wasn't really much, sadly. The king seemed, and was, adamant to go lead the battle from the frontlines. _Daedra_, it was like he was trying to one-up High King Torygg in suicidal plans. _Sure, I'll go fight Ulfric Stormcloak, no bad ever came of fighting a guy who used the Thu'um. And now it's all '_ _I'll fight an army of piss-scary monsters in my golden armor.'_

Because there was_ no_ way golden armor would draw the Darkspawn to the king like moths to magelight.

There was, however, a man at the meeting Talia hadn't been able to take her eyes off. Not for attractiveness or anything of the sort. The opposite, in fact was true. Teyrn Loghain, General and tactician of the army, was an imposing man. Like the King, he walked around in heavy, almost impossible armor, yet he wore the solid steel like it was nothing but a shirt. Strength, _that_ was what he gave off. Strength, and willpower made of stone. _Piss, I bet that general Tulius would love to meet Loghain._

The only downside was that he didn't seem very appreciating of the Grey Wardens. _Oh bugger. After this thing is done with, he'll at least have an appreciation for magic._

"Send Alistair and the new Grey Wardens to make sure it's done." The king said. Talia snapped from her pondering at those words. Send them to make sure it's done._ Make sure what is done? Piss, should've paid attention._

"We will do our best, your Majesty." Alistair replied with a curt nod. Loghain didn't seem impressed;

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?" Cailan scoffed at the General's words;

"Enough with your conspiracy-theories. Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter _where_ they are from." Talia glanced at the king, trying to figure out if he actually _knew_ what he meant when that concerned her. The king's attention was on Duncan however, and she decided he simply meant whether or not they were Fereldan or those "Orlesians" Loghain seemed to be pissed at. In a way, they sounded a lot like the Thalmor.

"Your majesty. You should consider the possibility of the Arch Demon appearing." Duncan advised. Talia nodded, though she really wasn't sure why. Sure, the Arch demon was apparently a giant dragon, but the ancient Nords had killed Dragons, and they had done that with primitive weapons compared to what people like Loghain wielded. There was probably something in Loghain's army to make up for lack of Thu'um… if they _did_ indeed lack it. Talia didn't actually know if people here used the Voice as well. _Neat if they do, that means we'll win this easier._

"There have been no signs of Dragons in the Wilds." Loghain offered.

"Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?" The king asked. There was a hint of disappointment in the king's voice, like he thought himself above needing to be reminded. Duncan looked down for a moment, like he was looking for strength.

"I… yes, your majesty." He said. Before either of the leaders present could speak, one of the mages from the Circle, a bald man in…_why the piss are people wearing purple all over this country?_

"Your majesty, the tower and the beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi can-" He started. An older woman in ornate clothing, orange and brown, interrupted him with an admonishing stare and tone;

"We will not risk any lives to your spells, mage. Save them for the Darkspawn." She didn't sound like she liked mages a lot. Which meant she was probably one of those people who wanted mages killed. Which meant Talia didn't like her.

Not one bit.

Luckily, before the mage could retort, Loghain spoke. Good thing too, because the blatant dismissing of magic as useful, made Talia's fist clench. All on their own. Swear.

"Enough! The plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon." Loghain sounded tired, like a thousand burdens were on his shoulders. Considering he had the whole army to be responsible for, Talia wagered it would amount to_ more_ than a mere thousand. The fact that he didn't lash out at the king for his childlike behavior, probably spoke of his self-control. Talia found she admired it, even if the man didn't like Grey Wardens. He was still the most realistic thinker so far, Duncan excluded naturally.

"Thank you, Loghain." Cailan exclaimed with that same childlike expectation of glory in his eyes and voice; "I cannot wait for that glorious moment. The Grey Wardens fighting side by side with the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil."

"Totally sounds like a _great_ idea…" Daveth whispered to her. It was probably because Dela seemed to take offense at disrespecting royalty, that he didn't say it to the dwarf. Talia hummed, choosing not to speak when Duncan was probably listening to every word. Loghain nodded and turned to walk;

"Yes Cailan. A glorious moment for us all." And with that, he left. There was something to his tone that made Talia a little wary, but she dismissed it as the man being tired, stressed, and she herself being less than optimal. She looked at Duncan, who gestured for them all, sans royalty of course, to follow him.

As they regrouped at the bonfire, with Turk gnawing away at some sort of treat Daveth had found for the hound, Duncan became serious;

"You all heard the plan. You will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

"So… wait, we won't be fighting?" Talia stared. Was this what she had missed when she'd droned out? "That's Horker-dung, and you know it!"

"This is by the King's personal request, Talia. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men will not know when to charge." Duncan's explanation _was_ sound, but it still chafed at Talia's pride that they would have to watch Duncan and Loghain kick ass from the safety of the tower. Piss, maybe they could light it, and then find a way to join the battle? Worth a try.

"So he needs the Grey Wardens standing up there, holding a torch. Just in case, right?" Alistair said, his voice laced with sarcasm. Clearly, he was just as annoyed as her. Dung that she agreed with the templar, but there it was;

"I agree. We should be in the battle, gods damn it. I don't think holding a torch helps a battle. Not a whole group anyway." She growled. Duncan turned an admonishing look at her that reminded her frightfully so of Scholar Decaru, her mathematics tutor. He'd always glare when she (purely accidentally) lit something on fire and then escaped while he put out the flames. _I do miss the old fart though…_

"That is not for you to decide. The king wants the Grey Wardens lighting the beacon, so the Grey Wardens will be there." Duncan berated; "We must do whatever it takes to destroy the Darkspawn, exciting or no."

"I get it, I get it…" Alistair sighed; "Just so you know, if the King ever asks me to put a dress on and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, Darkspawn or no."

Thát particular mental image was oddly entertaining.

"Way to take a stand, Al." Dela mused, evidently amused by the same image as Talia. Alistair gave the dwarf a look that started flat, but held a bit amusement as well;

"I have my dignity, you know… sometimes."

"Right. Tell that to the Aeducans." The small woman chuckled. Alistair went oddly red in the face at that reference, something Talia hadn't seen before now. Odd. What or who was the Aeducans, and what had Alistair done?

"Fine. Get to the tower, light the beacon… can we join _then_?" she asked, crossing her hands behind her back. It was that or pull her braids in frustration, something she'd rather not do in front of Duncan. It just seemed…undignified to do.

"Once the beacon is lit, stay with the Teyrn's men. If you are needed, I will send word for you." Duncan said, giving the group a look of examination; "The battle will begin soon. Once I leave, you have very little time to get to the beacon."

"Pissing…" Talia cursed, kicking an offending stone with the tip of her boot.

"So… we're going?" Daveth asked. Duncan nodded;

"From here you will be on your own. Remember, you are all Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title." There was a tone of finality, like Duncan's thoughts were that he would die. Talia didn't like the idea, and really couldn't imagine anything short of a dragon or a giant take down the man.

"Duncan… may the Maker watch over you." Alistair said. Duncan nodded in return;

"May he watch over us all." He said, looking at Talia as the last person. She felt he wanted to make sure she knew that he wanted their maker to watch over her as well. _Not like he's done a terrific job of that so far…_

She kept those thoughts to herself though, and watched Duncan leave. He carried himself with the air of a sage, a sage of warfare. Was this was Tiber Septim had been like, back in ancient times? Duncan certainly inspired people around him, much like Talos had apparently done.

"Divines watch over you, Duncan…" She whispered, making sure no one else heard it. She didn't need the questions, not now. There was a heavy feeling in her stomach, as if this would be the last time she would see Duncan.

She blew the feeling away. _As if. Duncan's way too tough to die. I bet he'll just be all "die? Who me? Don't make shit up" when he's stabbed or cut. If. If he's hit._

"Well, this's all nice and epic and dramatic and all, but how about we get to that tower, you know. Before we get hauled off by some pissed officer?" Daveth mused, tapping a finger to his bow.

"Way ahead of you, human." Dela chuckled, already at a run towards the bridge. Daveth grinned, then followed, as did the rest of the group. Talia though, had a frown on her face. The skies were black and dark, and there was a great fire to the east. Thunder and lighting harrowed the skies, giving an unneeded sense of trepidation to the whole thing.

For Talia, it reminded her of the night she ran away from home.

As the group ran towards the gorge, a massive fireball hit one of the spires on the other side of the bridge, collapsing it in a shower of debris and flames. Talia's eyes widened at the sight, but her attention was called back as they crossed the bridge. Archers on it were emptying their quivers into the black masses of fighting down below, lit by the dots of torches or fiery magic. _This definitely puts the Civil War to shame…_

"WATCH OU-!" The scream tore through the air as a fireball hit the side of the bridge, and engulfed the archers standing there. They screamed and wailed in pain before either succumbing to the agony or dropping from the bridge itself.

"Keep moving." Alistair ordered more than yelled, yet it had the needed effect. Talia's eyes were torn from the chaos below, and instead focused on their goal ahead. The Tower of Ishal was still standing tall, with small yellow lights streaming from the windows.

A fresh ball of fire hit one of the statues of Andraste, blowing the stone woman to bits and chunks. One of them hit Dela in the side, and knocked her to the ground.

"Dela!" Daveth was at the dwarf's side before she had even stopped bumping. It proved an unnecessary act though, as the small, but apparently solid woman jumped straight back up, brushed off her dented armor and grinned;

"As if that shit'd do me out. Got hit harder in the Provings." Talia resigned to simply wonder if all dwarves lacked the same regard for safety, of if Dela was just a nutty girl. She wouldn't really mind either, really.

The smile, or feeling of getting things done, was blown down the latrines when they crossed the bridge, and found the guards she remembered, to be somewhat lacking in presence. Or, to be accurate: they _were_ there, just not in the sense she had expected. Because she hadn't expected them to be fleeing towards them, with an armored Darkspawn and said abomination's friends in tow.

"Well shit…" Talia cursed as her hands started igniting. It was pure reflex, really, but it served well.

"The Tower's fallen! The Darkspawn got inside!" The apparent leader of the guards, of which there were two. Him and his comrade, yelled, as he seemed to notice their group. The Darkspawn chose that moment to hurl an axe across the distance, and burry it in the poor sod's spine. The man went down with little to no screams, though his companion did plenty screaming for the both of them.

"No shit." Dela said. Whether that was a counter to her own statement, or to the obviousness of the now-dead guard's warning, Talia didn't know. Not that she really cared either, as her attention was drawn towards where Aedan and Alistair had already drawn blades. _So much for the easy-yet-vital mission…_

Discarding the fire in her right hand, though she launched what was in her left, Talia snapped Two-Sock into being. The wolf charged the moment it was summoned, beating Turk to it as one of the Darkspawn archers suddenly went down with a case of teeth-through-throat. Familiar in play, Talia's full reserves were once more focused on destruction.

Focusing on one of the midget-archers, Talia gathered both palms in one focused ball of fiery wrath, then sent it outwards with a mental and physical push. The strike hit home, scorching most of the Genlock's head off with an intensity as if it had been a sword doing to killing. Shifting her targets, she then took out the legs from one of the bigger Darkspawn, burning away skin and flesh before leaving it for Turk to maul and ravage.

"Shit, where'd all these come from?" Daveth cursed as he pulled an arrow, revealed to be broken as he discarded it, from a dead Genlock. The surviving guard from before, now sporting a nasty cut on his face, swallowed a lump as he looked around with a frantic stare;

"The Darkspawn came up through the lower chambers, they are everywhere! Most of our men are _dead_!"

"Well, they're here now." Talia muttered, rewarding Two-Sock with a light pat as the group made its way towards the tower; "Might as well kill them with fire."

All around them, corpses of both Darkspawn and soldiers were strewn about, with a lot less dead Darkspawn than soldiers. The sight made her stomach churn. It was a grim, and more than merely disturbing sight. Men had their entrails pulled from their still twitching corpses, blood and intestines steaming in the cold air. _Divines… _

Alistair, being the senior of their group, led the charge as more Darkspawn were waiting at the tower's door. The entrance itself was grand, yet didn't manage to dwarf the Darkspawn standing tall before it. Ugly, feathery and radiating evil, the creature let out a hoarse laughter before slapping a spell off towards Alistair. Instead of blasting him to bits though, the spell coated the Warden in a white shimmer, paralyzing him like a statue of flesh.

A bad thing, considering the Darkspawn warriors still all around him.

"Ehm… a little _help_ here?" Alistair was, miracle of miracles, capable of speech. Not that Talia, or anyone else really took the time nor effort to reply, as they were beset by the rest of the Darkspawn immediately. As Talia started flinging off firebolts towards the Darkspawn getting too close to the paralyzed Alistair, Dela seemed to vanish into the shadows.

"Daveth! Kill their mage!" Aedan shouted, slicing a small Darkspawn apart by the shoulder. The archer gave a small nod as his only reply, and notched an arrow.

An arrow that was never fired, as Dela suddenly appeared on the back of the Darkspawn mage, thrusting both daggers through the back of its hideous head, and thus poking one tip out each of the now splattered eyeballs.

Talia didn't even bother acting surprised. Mostly, this was because a Darkspawn the size of an Orc was trying to skewer her on a rusty, serrated sword. Constantly leaping backwards, Talia poured a constant stream of fire at the monster, then shifted to a mix of fire and electricity as the flames alone didn't seem to do the job. This in turn seemed to work, as the monster fell to the ground, twitching. She blew her knuckles and grinned as Alistair was released from his magical prison. Without the Darkspawn mage, there really was nothing to sustain it.

"_This_ is more like it!" She yelled, blasting fire towards a Darkspawn trying to circle around a growling Two-Sock, blade pointed at the Familiar. The blast caught the Darkspawn in the side, singing it and flinging it to the ground. Two-Sock pounced and ripped out the exposed throat; "Yeah! Go down, bitch!"

Best thing of all, her reserves were _nowhere_ near being depleted as Aedan beheaded the last Darkspawn.

When the creature fell to the ground, the Wardens sheathed their weapons and looked around. More than ten dead Darkspawn, including the mage were strewn about, with the surviving guard being their only casualty. Talia hadn't seen him go down, but the look on the poor man's face told of immense pain, likely caused by the fact that his left arm was resting a small meter from his shoulder, with a pool of blood soaking the ground beneath him.

The feeling of triumph was somewhat lessened.

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**As always, I emplore that you give me your thoughts on the chapter. The story only improves through feedback, as well as reading said feedback makes my day. Reviews are the currency of this site, and I am but a poor beggar.**

**Till next time :)**


	12. Top of the World

**To those still following this story, because I get the feeling some people are a bit annoyed at how I do this:**

**Enjoy the end to Ostagar, and the real start to this story :)**

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"The Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, so the Chantry says, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs."

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**Top of the World**

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"I don't understand this." Alistair cursed as he opened the heavy doors. Inside was the heavy smell of death and fire; "The Darkspawn shouldn't _be_ here."

"So? Go tell the piss-ants that." Dela huffed as she nudged a dead body with the tip of her boot. Talia offered the small woman a glance, wondering not for the first time how she could move so silently in metal armor. In the end, like with many other events that had transpired, she attributed it to magic.

"Yeah, I'm sure this is all just one big misunderstanding." Alistair was being sardonic, that much was easy to hear; "And later we'll all laugh and go each our ways."

"I guess it does sound rather optimistic when you put it like that." Aedan agreed, looking around. The room before them was a large circular hall, with barricades crudely stacked to prevent those coming from the door to gain entrance. Or rather, it was built to funnel intruders through what was probably a kill zone.

Having been raised in a long (and proud. If her parents were anything, they were Divines-be-damned _proud_) line of fire-mages, Talia had been schooled so thoroughly in flammable substances, that not only could she recite them when awoken before the hounds, she also recognized the smell of oil. A heavy stench that almost seemed to hammer her senses with the greasy sensation of flammable pitch.

She frowned to waft the smell from her nostrils, then followed the others as they made cautious progress into the hall. Alistair, being the senior, walked in the front, and thus it was the sound of his heavy boots treading on something other than dry brick, that alerted Talia. _PISS!_

Without even hesitating to warn the group, she grabbed Alistair's armor by the neck and hauled him back.

The puddle of oil was set ablaze that very same instant, becoming a pit of fiery death. _Had_ anyone actually been standing on it. Heart hammering in her chest, Talia made sure her own clothes weren't on fire before retreating behind a pillar. Arrows were being shot from beyond the fountain at the center of the room, and her robes wouldn't offer much protection from them.

"Wait for the flames to die out!" Alistair called, taking cover himself behind another pillar. No one felt like disobeying, and did their best to weather the arrows flying at them. More than one dinged off Aedan's shield, the heavy metal not really allowing the tips to embed themselves.

Talia snuck a peek from behind her pillar. As long as she stayed behind it, she figured she could managed a small glance. Beyond the fountain, five Genlocks were busy emptying their quivers towards them. Other than that, there was no other opposition.

_Oh,_ the Darkspawn mage had hidden behind one of the large crates. Sneaky bastard. Still, a plan was starting to form in Talia's mind, even as the Darkspawn mage started flinging those bolts of energy towards them. Just another reason to take cover behind those thick stone-columns;

"Alistair, if I can make those midgets stop shooting, can you guys make it to them?" The look she got from Alistair was surprised. She looked at him to wait for his accept, and missed the look of concern on Aedan's face.

"Like what?" The senior of their group demanded more than asked. Talia did a retake of the distance before looking back at Alistair. Truth be told, she had no idea if she had the reserves to make the shot. Still, if the previous fight had revealed anything, it was that the Joining really _did_ offer some improvements. Idly, Talia realized the bloody thing had probably been magical in nature.

"When they stop shooting, just charge." Beyond that, she didn't bother explaining. Mostly because she wasn't entirely sure it would even work. Still, it was better than waiting for the Darkspawn to get those damnable lucky shots in. Daveth had already been graced, she'd seen that, and at some point it wouldn't just be a "grace" . _Piss, this better work!_

As another arrow pinged off the column, Talia jumped from cover and snapped magic. Behind the crude barricades, Two-Sock appeared with fangs bared. Before the Darkspawn mage even registered the appearance of the Familiar, the ghostly wolf had leapt at him. To his credit, Alistair stepped out from cover and advanced the moment the arrows stopped flying, followed by Aedan and Dela in quick succession. Daveth remained with her, and helped supply a healthy dose of distant death to the Darkspawn.

Suddenly, killing those creatures had become remarkably easy.

With Alistair and Aedan in the front, the group started forcing its way through the rooms. Talia found that somehow, as she had noticed earlier, her magical reserves almost seemed to have been increased. The joining was about the only reason she could think of, though again, she had no idea what exactly had caused it. The most promising theory, supported by the fact that combining lightning and fire was the most effective way to kill them, was that the Darkspawn were somehow magical in nature.

Alistair sighed, a heavy, tired sound, as the group came upon a massive hole, dug straight from the floor. There was no seeing the bottom of the tunnel, and the firebolt Talia sent down, simply vanished in the darkness.

The rooms they passed all more or less looked like improvised slaughterhouses, with the dead bodies of humans and Darkspawn both strewn about. One of the rooms that made her cringe was a large hall just before the corridors leading to the next floor. The dead and mutilated bodies of Mabari hounds were slumped in their cages, butchered by the Darkspawn. She did her best to ignore the sight, and instead took out her frustrations on a group of Genlock's appearing from one of the side-rooms in the corridor.

Teeth grit in anger, she hurled fire and lightning at the miniature monsters, frying their skin, burning their flesh and popping their eyes like infected zits. There was something immensely satisfying about watching electricity arch its way through a group of grotesque, undead dwarves. If Dela felt anything about fighting Genlocks, she didn't show it, which was fine by Talia. She didn't care to guess Dela's thoughts anyway.

"So… anyone care to guess what's behind door number One?" Daveth mused, not waiting for a reply as he opened the door.

"I'm guessing Darkspawn." Alistair said. There had to be a joke somewhere in there, but Talia just couldn't find it. In the end, she decided she didn't care and instead followed the others through the door, and up the stairs.

_Gods! _She hated stairs!

But at least she wasn't Dela.

"Sodding… piece of… shit!" The dwarf cursed under her breath as she struggled to make her shorter legs keep up; "I…really hate… human buildings."

Alistair changed the pace to her level, likely because he himself was tired. Or, he was being considerate. It didn't really matter which, though the contemplation was interesting enough;

"Orzammar has plenty of stairs too." He argued.

"Well I never went to the diamond-quarters, so… excuse me for not… having the same level of stair-killing expertise… as you, oh _great_ leader."

"You hear that?" Alistair mused, much to Dela's obvious annoyance; "I'm a _great_ leader now."

"You'll be a _hurting_ leader if… you don't…shit…" Dela cursed. Talia at first thought it was odd that the dwarf would demand of Alistair to take a dump on the stairs, then she looked ahead. Maybe _that_ was also why Aedan and Daveth had stopped walking.

A barricade of corpses was blocking the stairs, with a small, disgusting river of black and red blood running down the steps. Too late, she noticed that her boots were soaked with the liquids, and frowned. Great. _That_ wasn't going to be a bitch to wash out at all.

"This might take some time to clear." Alistair muttered, then glanced at Talia. Somehow, she knew what he wanted. Not because it was terribly difficult to discern, what with his words and the way he looked at her.

"Right, _right_. Let the _mage_ remove the dead bodies. _Magnus_, it's like you people don't respect magic at all." She grumbled, pressing through the group. When in front of the wall, the sight only got more unsettling. There was barricading an entrance with what one had on hand, and there was this. Each body had been mauled and ravaged to the point where even the Draugrs would look more appeasing.

There really only was one way to clear out the mess, short of physically tearing it down. Fire wouldn't do it, as the smoke would probably be less than healthy to inhale. Lightning it was, then.

It proved to work just fine too, as she unleashed the sparks from her gathered palms. The magical electricity danced over the dead bodies, and slowly started disintegrating the skin, then flesh and organs. In the end, all that really remained was armor and bones, with charred skulls grinning at her. Talia huffed and rolled her fingers. She had to admit, becoming a Grey Warden _did_ have its perks.

The second floor was more or less redecorated by the Darkspawn. Crude weapons and dismembered corpses were propped everywhere, and every statue had been beheaded. Talia didn't see the idea to the latter, as beheading a statue had to be a waste of time. Still, the group met with little resistance. There was of course plenty of Darkspawn, but mostly the small shits made from Dwarves. It wasn't until the group reached the final room, just before the stairs to the top of the tower, that things got problematic.

If problematic was the proper word to describe a giant-sized, purple, horned Darkspawn eating a dead body. Sans Alistair, the entire group just stopped and stared. Daveth was the first to find his voice;

"What…the shit… is _that_?" Talia couldn't have put it better herself, except maybe for adding some Divine at the front of the sentence. Still, those words perfectly mirrored her thoughts. This thing was big. It was bigger than just _big_. It was Namira-be-damned _huge_.

"Ogre." Alistair spoke in a low voice, hand tightening on his sword; "_Nobody_ make _any_ sudden movements."

In the end, the entire group could as well have yelled at the top of their lungs, for all the good being silent did them. The gigantic beast turned, a lumbering and slow movement, and glared at the Wardens. A bit of a human arm dangled from its jaws, before being gulped down as the Ogre regarded them with a bestial, yet somewhat intelligent glare.

"Well… now what?" Dela urged, clearly nervous at the prospect of having to fight something so impossibly large. And how the hell had it even gotten into the room? There was no hole in the wall of the floor large enough to allow it entrance, and it sure as hell didn't seem capable of using the door.

"Aedan, you and I draw its attention. Dela, see if you can get on its back. Daveth and Talia, do your best to harass it. Don't. underestimate-" Alistair's orders were interrupted when the Ogre threw back its meaty fists and _roared,_ spittle flying from its mouth. Then, it charged.

_"MOVE!"_ Talia wasn't sure if she was the one screaming or not, but she followed the suggestion, and leapt for her life as the ogre charged forward like a bull. The others did the same, and the monster plowed through a table before hitting the door the group had used. Its momentum carried it, and the door as well as a section of the wall, with it and into the previous room.

"Maker! How do we kill something like that?" Aedan exclaimed as he started moving towards the monster. Talia bit down the worry as she instead focused on following Alistair's orders. He was the senior warden in their group, so logic dictated he would know how to fight one of these things. Gods, she hoped that was true. Because shooting fire at it didn't really seem to do more than piss it off.

"How about not dying? I really like that plan!" Dela yelled as she skirted the Ogre, leaping away every time the monster tried pulping her into the floor. For a small woman in heavy armor, Dela was surprisingly nimble.

"Keep shooting, that's my plan." Daveth said in a very even voice as he shot arrow after arrow into the Ogre. His precision was just as good as it had been in the Wilds, if not better. Even so, the attacks seemed to impact the monster as little more than pinpricks. Still, Talia found herself following Daveth's plan, tearing a flame atronach from Oblivion with one hand, while the other shifted between shock and fire magic.

As odd as it was both unexpected yet obvious in hindsight, the ogre targeted the atronach more than it targeted Alistair or Aedan. Both men hacked away at the monster at every chance and turn they got, but the ogre's main target seemed to be the brightly burning atronach, hovering a foot above ground as it pelted the ogre with fire.

"That's how it's done!" Daveth exclaimed as he no-doubt noticed the ogre's strange priorities as well. Talia decided that if the atronach actually did manage to distract the ogre, she would just go with it having been her plan all along. The ogre finally managed to press the atronach into a corner, whereupon it smashed the summon into the ground like an annoying insect. Daveth's arrow found the base of its skull, and the Ogre roared in pain, the first really obvious sign that any damage was being done. As the Ogre turned to charge the archer, the remains of the atronach combusted in a wave of fire before its feet. As the arcane flames licked its unarmored feet, the monster howled in pain.

Daveth's dwindling stock of arrows was showing, but at least they didn't seem to have been wasted. Multiple small wounds where arrows had broken off, were bleeding, as were the wounds to its legs and waist where the two warriors of the group had managed to injure it. There wasn't a single bite-mark from Turk, as the Mabari had wisely kept its distance to the fight. Clever boy, seeing how the Darkspawn giant would likely have swatted the hound aside like a cat toying with a mouse.

Talia was about to throw fire at the Ogre's exposed rear, but held back as she saw Dela dashing forward, a dagger held firmly in each hand. Talia's first thoughts were that there was no way Dela could get high enough to do any worthwhile harm to the monster.

Those thoughts were dismissed when the dwarf buried both daggers in the Ogre's back, and then held on for dear life as the Darkspawn started trying to throw her off. More or less ignoring the humans before it, the Ogre stomped about, meaty fists clawing to get at the pesky midget clinging to its back. Dela didn't let go though, but instead started using her blades to climb higher, somehow managing to evade every attempt at crushing her in a powerful grip.

Alistair signaled Aedan as the ogre focused on Dela, and both men ducked forward beneath the swinging fists. In rough unison, both warriors sent their blades through the tendons above its ankles. Dark blood sprayed from the deep cuts, and the Ogre's legs wobbled as it lost the ability to stand straight. At this point, Talia and Daveth were forced to simply watch, seeing how any attack could hit Dela as well. The dwarf used the momentum as the Ogre stumbled, to close the distance between herself and the monster's neck. Then, the Ogre caught her in its massive hand.

It happened too fast for anyone but possibly Dela to realize what was going on. One moment the dwarf was scaling the gigantic Darkspawn, the next it had her in a crushing grip. Dela screamed in agony, and even as Talia felt the horror rise in her throat, the Ogre threw Dela at the wall at the far side of the room. The small body seemed to sail through the air in slowed time, then hit the wall with a wet crack, and the sound of both body and armor breaking.

The _sound_ of the impact. Gods.

Alistair roared and charged forward as the ogre turned to regard the rest of the Wardens, a satisfied smirk on its monstrous face. It slapped a fist to the ground, cracking the tiles where Alistair had just been. Instead, Alistair dodged the blow and buried his sword to the hilt in the Ogre's torso.

"Die, damn you!"

The Ogre howled and twitched, still alive despite the mortal wound. The sword was ripped from Alistair's hand. Aedan slashed the Ogre across the chest, causing more blood to fall in a crimson stream. The massive Darkspawn turned its face towards Aedan, snarling as it was down on level with the human. Alistair drew his knife, going for the kill, and plunged it into the Ogre's throat. The fight ended, as the massive Darkspawn collapsed in a wide pool of its own blood.

"By the Eight… What… the hell…?" Talia panted as the adrenaline started leaving her system. Her legs were still shaking. Alistair didn't bother to glance at her, instead looking at where Dela had fallen as he retrieved his sword from the Ogre.

"Everyone… alright?"

"Almost out of arrows… Daveth replied with a pained tone, looking at the broken arrows littering the ground. A lot had been ripped out or simply broken off when the Ogre had grabbed Dela from its back.

"I'm fine..." Aedan huffed, using his sword to support himself as he breathed. Talia really didn't envy him, having had to be so damn close to that monster. It was just another advantage to being a mage, as it allowed her to keep her distance to monsters like that.

Talia started walking towards Dela, hoping to see the dwarf bounce back up like she'd done when the statue hit her on the bridge. Alistair somehow outpaced her, and knelt by the dwarf.

"…Is…she?" She feared the answer, but asked anyway. There wasn't much doubt really, she knew from the growing puddle of blood forming where Dela lay, unmoving. The armor supposed to protect her body had been caved in like crumbled parchment, and blood was running freely from every gap in the metal. Her neck was bent in an odd angle, which more or less told Talia what was to know.

Alistair nodded.

The group was silent for almost a full minute, offering the small woman what respects they could. Talia moved a bit, so she wouldn't be able to see the startled expression that had stuck on Dela's face. Still, not a word was spoken aloud while Alistair muttered something that sounded very much like a prayer.

Then, he got up and sighed, taking a long, deep breath;

"Alright, let's move. We need to get to the beacon, else the Teyrn's men won't know when to charge." He said, and led the group up the stairs. The group followed him, leaving behind Dela's body. Hopefully, they could retrieve it later and give her the ceremony required.

Talia made an effort to avoid stepping on the human remains littering the stairwell, but still ended up nearly slipping when her foot connected with a pulped hand instead of the stairs.

"And just how do we know when the heck to signal them reinforcements?" Daveth inquired irritated, seemingly doing a better job than her at avoiding the not-stair steps. He did have a point, Talia realized. She'd seen the tower from the outside, and unless there was a sight-scope up there, there was no way they would be able to know when to light the beacon.

"Just leave that part to me." was all Alistair said. Talia huffed in irritation, and did her best to wipe the blood on her boots off on the stairs. When they finally cleared the stairwell and emerged into the top-floor room, it hit her just how damn _big_ it was. There even was a relatively small hole in the wall, yet large enough that the Ogre would have been perfectly able to fit through. If only, that was, had the hole not opened up to a straight drop hundreds of meters down.

She could see the battle from the makeshift window, though, so there was something to do while Alistair prepared the beacon. Daveth stood next to her, leaning on the opening as he whistled at the sight;

"…Sure as hell looks tiny from up here, eh?"

"I guess…" Talia muttered, trying not to think of all the people dying every second while they watched. Or Dela's smashed corpse. Duncan was down there too, she knew, as was the king. She didn't much care about Cailan, but he seemed an alright sort, if far too naïve and idealistic to be king. Still, she hoped the plan would work; "This whole 'Blight'-thing… what would happen if we lost?"

"You mean just here or a 'we're all dead' lost?" Daveth asked. Talia looked at him, noticing the tired look in his eyes.

"The second one."

"The previous Blights sometimes spread far beyond Ferelden, from what I know. Dunno how far, but I guess they just keep spreading until someone stops it with a big 'nuff army." Daveth said. From the tone of his voice, his mind wasn't with his words, but Talia's very much were.

The sound of wood igniting made Talia look behind her, to where Alistair had set the beacon ablaze. From where she stood, it seemed like he had merely lit up a fireplace with a chimney, but when looking out the hole again, she could easily see the glow cast from the light shining somewhere above them.

The beacon was lit. Now all they had to do was to wait for Loghain's men to charge in and slaughter the Darkspawn. Talia squinted, trying to spot Loghain's forces. She found them pretty easily, a large mass of dark, covered in bright dots from the torches. The reinforcements were located on the top of a hill overlooking the battlefield, so the charge was probably going to be like crushing a grape between an anvil and a hammer. A cautious smile spread on her lips. _And we have the best seats to watch this go down._

Then she looked again, trying to understand what she was seeing. Something was wrong. The beacon was lit, and there was no way it wasn't visible from the valley. Loghain _had_ to have seen it now. So why by the Daedra wasn't he charging down like the Nord heroes of old?

The battle just dragged on below, with the sound of steel upon steel carrying all the way to where she stood. And yet, Loghain hadn't charged down the hill. Talia's eyes widened in something between horror and confusion as she noticed Loghain's forces seemed to be moving _away_ from the battle. What in Oblivion had she missed in the plan that explained Loghain _leaving_ the battle?

Even as she turned to ask Alistair, seeing how he was the senior warden in their group, footsteps and growls came from the stairs behind them. Her eyes shot towards the stairs, narrowing, then widening in disbelief as Darkspawn emerged, swarming into the room with bows drawn, and teeth bared in evil grins.

An arrow flew.

"Behind-!" Her yell was cut short as the arrow pierced her chest, followed by first one, then two others in the same place. More followed, penetrating her arms and legs. More arrows continued to fly, bringing the rest of the group to the ground. Talia tried to scream as the pain wrecked her body, but all that came out was blood spurting from her lips, even as darkness started seeping into her world.

* * *

Soft.

Why was it soft?

Light was seeping through the cracks in her eyelids, disturbing the sleep she tried remaining deep within. Not that she didn't _like_ soft things, it was just annoying because the darkness had been warm and soft and comfortable, not at all like what being awake was usually like.

Wait. Why was she even asleep? She didn't remember having gone to bed, and she usually remembered that kind of things, if never actually falling asleep. There seemed to be a barrier preventing one from remembering falling asleep.

_Darkspawn everywhere. Arrows. So many arrows, and she'd been hit. She remembered that. There had been pain, and she hadn't been able to breathe. And everything had tasted of blood, and it wasn't supposed to taste of blood. She'd hit the floor, and tried warning the others before everything just went dark._

Talia's eyes flew open as the memories returned, yet her body refused to move right away. Her legs were asleep, and only slowly did they begin feeling normal again. Meanwhile, she threw off the covers, covers she had never even seen before, and tried sitting up. Anything was better than lying down now.

"Had I known that my bed would become a permanent hospice for strangers, I would have erected a tent to spare myself the trouble." An irritated, yet amused voice said from her left. Talia's eyes sought the speaker, and found a person she hadn't expected to see. At least not so soon. Morrigan, the "Witch of the Wilds" that the men had been so afraid off.

"Where…am I?" Talia asked. Before Morrigan could respond, the door to the room was borderline _kicked_ in, revealing a less than calm Brelyna. Talia attempted a weak greeting as the Dunmer seemed to have trouble finding her words; "…Hi?"

Morrigan, having clearly no intentions of being caught in a conversation, left the room. When the _Dunmer_ did speak however, it was with a surprising amount of calm;

"Do you have any idea how… _what_ happened to you?" Brelyna's voice was a little odd, considering the fires burning in her red eyes. The tone didn't match at all, which was a little unsettling. Talia glanced down, realizing she was covered by nothing but her underwear. Still, she didn't pay that any mind as she instead looked around the room. Four other beds were lined next to hers, all of them empty. When she looked back at Brelyna, the girl had somehow moved a lot closer without the Breton noticing;

"I remember being shot. A lot. By the Darkspawn." She muttered, rubbing her eye. A thought struck her, as did worry and she looked to Morrigan; "My… the others?"

"They are fine. T'is you who was in the most danger." Morrigan said, gesturing for the still-open door. A furry face poked inside, a face Talia had never thought she'd be _this_ happy and relieved to see. Morrigan noticed him as well, and scoffed; "That one has been pestering Mother and I since the moment he awoke."

"It is a relief to see you alive, Talia. J'zargo was starting to think he'd become the greatest with no competition." The Khajiit mused. A brief flash of hurt appeared in his eyes before vanishing again; "Ah, some competition _has_ been lost. This one liked Onmund. He was an honest competitor. J'zargo suspects he would have become a great wizard… not as great as J'zargo, but…"

It was becoming painfully obvious that the cat didn't really know how to express himself without being too embarrassed to sound like he actually meant it. He was socially awkward like that at times. Talia sighed as the door opened again, though she made a point to keep her eyes on J'zargo;

"I know. But, the two of you are alive." She sighed. Looking towards the door, she noticed Daveth quickly leaving the room again, obviously realizing this was a private conversation. She almost nodded after him when J'zargo's words pulled her attention back;

"That is true, and so are you. It would have been such a shame had J'zargo lost his last rival." The Khajiit barred his teeth slightly in a feline grin. Talia sighed and rested back against the wall, having propped up the thin pillow for some comfort.

"So… what now?" Brelyna asked, looking at her two fellow students. Talia rubbed her neck, longing for her robes to cover her again. Not because she had an issue with being next-to naked, but because the house was not exactly _warm_.

"We head home, yes?" J'zargo asked, then poked his chin with a claw; "Though J'zargo does not know exactly _how_ to do this."

"I have an idea as to where we are, actually." Brelyna admitted. For some reason, she didn't seem happy when she spoke. Talia frowned, wondering what her, admittedly somewhat smarter, friend had discovered.

"Oh?" J'zargo mused, indicating this hadn't been shared with him. Brelyna sighed;

"…I'm… more or less certain that this is Akavir." To which Talia merely stared. Then she blinked.

"Akavir?" J'zargo asked in mild disbelief. Nothing ever _really_ seemed to face him, which was odd. It was odd because Talia knew he wasn't stupid, or as arrogant and non-caring as he let on.

"I don't know…" she sighed. Too much had been revealed for her _not_ to try ripping apart Brelyna's theory. First of all, where the heck were the Tiger Dragons? Akavir was supposed to have plenty of Tiger Dragons, whatever those actually looked like. And what about the Serpent-men of Tsaesci? Or the Snow Demons? Granted, _those_ could just be frozen for the time being, but still.

"The only thing that bugs me is that your friends froze on the spot when they saw J'zargo." Brelyna huffed, scooting to better sit on the bed. Talia didn't mind the closeness, not after the hell she'd just been dragged through;

"Why do you think this is Akavir?"

"Well, it's obviously west of Skyrim, and Morrowind. I can't see the Warrior at night, but the Thief is just above…" Brelyna didn't herself sound like she was convinced, but if the stars were as she said, they _ought_ to be further west than anywhere on Tamriel alright.

"Still doesn't mean this is Akavir, Brelyna." Talia muttered; "I've been out there, and so far I haven't seen a single Snow demon or Monkey-Man."

"J'zargo does not care if the Tiger Dragons themselves come knocking. He wants to know how to return to Tamriel, not what stars you can see." The Khajiit stated in annoyance. Talia gave him a flat stare, one that softened a bit when she noticed the scar running up his neck and into his left cheek. She decided to change the subject, and pointed it out;

"You _really_ fought a bear?" the question came so sudden that J'zargo had to blink while processing the words, then just grinned proudly.

"Ah, well yes of course. J'zargo would be a poor mage if he fell like the rest of you." He declared with smug satisfaction. Talia's brow shot up a little;

"But why? Khajiit can outrun most bears _I_ know of. Did you have magic then?"

"Ah… no. J'zargo had to use his claws. But… he won. And now J'zargo will have scars to bear with pride." He said, though his tone was a bit off; "But enough of J'zargo. Who are the people outside that seem so worried for you?"

"Ah…them…" Talia muttered, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. It somehow felt like she'd betrayed her friends a bit with the whole "Join the Wardens" thing. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time, but in hindsight it was probably going to cause issues; "There… might be a problem. It's more or less my fault, I think…"

"What do you mean?" Brelyna's voice held just enough worry to file under the 'what did you do _this_ time?' category. Usually it was annoying (because Talia didn't get into trouble nearly often enough to warrant a tone reserved for that kind of thing), but now she accepted that her friends, the ones in the room with her, might not be exactly overjoyed.

Talia shifted in her seat, wringing her hands. Piss, she wasn't supposed to be nervous around her own friends. She'd known them both for years, for Mara's sake!

"I… might have kinda maybe joined an Order of monster-killing warriors to stop an army of Darkness comparable to the Dragon War." There. Revelation delivered. Now to wait for J'zargo to become jealous and Brelyna to have a nervous fit.

"Ok-ay?" The Dunmer's first word wasn't what Talia had expected; "And… _why_ would you do that when you know as well as I that we should just return home as soon as possible?"

"That's… where it kinda gets a little scary. Scary as in 'soil your drawers'-scary." She tried explaining. Brelyna's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed, indicating for her to go on. There would likely be some very uncomfortable admonishing from the younger girl if Talia couldn't sell the threat as it was. She still remembered what Daveth had said, in the tower.

"And how is that, hmm?" J'zargo mused, examining a claw as he spoke. Still, his ears were pointed straight ahead, betraying the nonchalant façade of disinterest.

"The enemy is called "Darkspawn". I've fought them, they're essentially like orcs, just without brains between their ears. And they seem to just want to kill everything around them. Also some become as big as giants." There was a very brief flash of pain as she saw Dela's broken body in her mind, then shook it off; "What's going on is called a Blight. It's basically the end of the world for these people if they lose, I think. And if they lose, there's no reason to think the Darkspawn won't spread to Tamriel as well."

"Are you sure?" Brelyna's voice was somewhere between set in stone, and wavering from uncertainty. Talia really wanted to lie and say everything wasn't as bad as she thought.

"I am, yeah…" She muttered, looking at her feet; "At first I just wanted to get back home as fast as I could, with you of course, but… that's when I started realizing how big this is. If they lose."

"Mmm… maybe J'zargo spoke too soon earlier. One cannot be his rival if the girl has lost her mind." There was a hint of frustration in his voice, something rarely heard from the cat. He pointed a furry finger at Talia; "And something tells J'zargo that you must have lost your mind."

"What, because I did something instead of just looking the other way?" Talia huffed, staring at the cat.

"As much as he boasts, J'zargo knows he is not meant for war. He joined the College to learn the arts, not to fight the forces of Darkness."

"What difference could you even make, Talia?" Brelyna cut in. Good thing too, because J'zargo was getting on the Breton's nerves.

"I can help. At least, I believe I can help." She declared, looking for some support from the door. Right now would be a great time for any of the other Wardens to butt in. Even Alistair, mage-hater as he seemed to have been once; "I just… I can't turn my back on this. Even if we _could_ leave right now, what would happen when the Blight reached Tamriel?"

"The Empire would beat it back, of course." J'zargo brushed her off; "Khajiit knows there are no greater soldiers than the Imperial Legions."

"He has a point, you know." And Brelyna sound like she hardly believed it herself; "We're apprentices. We're not supposed to fight in wars. Doesn't this land have an army of its own?"

Not anymore, Talia suspected. If the plan had hinged on Loghain charging from the flank, then the plan had failed when she watched the general pull out. This probably meant the battle had been lost. And that Duncan was dead. The thought made her heart beat faster for a few moments, but she managed to force it down with controlled breathing. Even if Duncan _was_ dead, panicking wouldn't solve anything.

"It _had_. Regardless, this is important. Staying here could mean saving countless lives. I'm not asking you to join me for it, Divines know I'd prefer you to be on the other end of Nirn from this shit, but…"

"Talia, do you even know what you are saying?" Brelyna seemed baffled, which Talia really didn't blame her. Delivering speeches about self-sacrifice wasn't exactly something she did often.

"I know. I know that I'm not a soldier, or even trained to kill a horde of monstrous mutants, but I have to try." At the very least she should try to help the people she'd met. Even if she might not make a difference, the shame would probably eat her up till she died, if she just left it all for the safety of Tamriel.

"Not what I meant." The Dunmer sighed in irritation; "I meant that you must be utterly delirious if you think I'll let you endanger your life like this without me to watch your back. You'll just get yourself killed otherwise."

Talia blinked, completely taken aback by the dark-skinned girl's words. It felt a bit like someone had punched her intestines into her chest, and now everything was tangled up and confused. Because it sounded a lot like Brelyna had just stopped being the timid, adorable girl from Morrowind, and instead become something more. She wasn't sure what, exactly, but the fact that Brelyna had said what she said, made her want to punch a kitten.

J'zargo would make the next best target, if she actually ended up having to hit something out of frustration. Gods dammit, she had done all this shit, and now the people she had wanted to protect, wanted to seek out danger instead of staying safe? _What the hell did I do to deserve this?_

"What?" It wasn't the most eloquent of counters, but it was all she could muster.

"I happen to be a better mage than you, whether you realize it or not." Brelyna stated with a determined stare; "If you want to play hero, you need an actually decent mage to watch over you."

"Hey, I'm plenty deadly compared to you." Talia muttered.

"Maybe, but your reserves are below average. I'm coming, and that's the end of it."

A small grin spread over Talia's face, though she made an effort to suppress it. She wanted Brelyna safe, but at the same time, didn't want to be separated from her in a land like Ferelden. She looked at J'zargo, the cat offering her an amused look;

"Let this one guess, you want J'zargo to stay safe too?" He said. Talia mock-scowled at him;

"I seem to recall you saying you weren't a soldier, scaredy-cat. Or did that change?" A feeling of confidence was spreading in her chest, caused by Brelyna's determination to watch over her. In a way, it was like the roles were turned around and Brelyna had suddenly become the older girl. Funny, really.

"J'zargo only said that because he knows he doesn't _need_ to help. But you need his help, no?" The cat grinned, toying with one of his thick, black whiskers. Really it was more like a beard, but Khajiit insisted they didn't grow beards. So, whiskers it was.

"_Sure_ we do." Talia blew a huff. Still, she was glad they were with her in this.

Outside, as she more or less bypassed Morrigan, Talia found Aedan and Alistair to be deep in conversation with their backs turned. When Aedan noticed her, Alistair turned as well, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes, and a pained expression on his face. Near by the shallow waters of the marshy pond, Daveth was sitting on a rock, unusually silent.

"What?" Talia spoke first, directing the question to Alistair and Aedan. Mostly to Aedan, as she had a nagging suspicion about what had happened to Alistair.

"Loghain left the battle about when we lit the beacon…" Aedan muttered, his fists tightened in clear anger; "Now the king is dead, Duncan is dead and the whole bleeding army is dead. With just the four of us, we're more or less screwed."

"_Six_, actually…" she tried, though it had about the expected effect: none at all. Aedan just kept looking like he wanted to strangle a puppy. _Speaking of… where by Arkay did Turk go?_

The realization hit her that the hound was likely dead, since she hadn't seen it so far since she woke up. Just one more nail in the coffin that was Aedan's family, and what was left of it.

"_Six_, then. We're still just us versus the Darkspawn, oh, and Loghain who probably wants to remove the loose ends and kill anyone who survived the battle." Alistair snapped; "And two of us can't even be seen in public because everyone would start screaming 'abominations, help!', and then we would be chased by the Chantry as well."

"It's not J'zargo's bloody fault that no one but the old crow knows about Khajiit." The cat argued, obviously tired of being called an abomination by just about every person he came across. Talia chose to ignore the tension, at least for now;

"What happened? I remember getting shot, how are we here?" Because she really couldn't see a way they could have just ended up in Morrigan's home. Unless the girl or her mother had collected their bodies at the tower and then brought them back to life. Really, it wasn't _that_ far-fetched.

"You were injured, and Mother saved you. You do not remember?" Morrigan said, giving J'zargo the stink-eye when he stood too close to her.

"I think I would remember an old woman rescuing me from… _Injured_? I was shot in the lung at least twice, and you call that being _injured_?" Talia exclaimed, poking her chest for effect. Morrigan gave a small, not-very-friendly amused sound at the gesture.

"I have healed far worse injuries in my time, girl." Flemeth stated, appearing from within the house. Talia frowned, as she had been certain the old woman hadn't been inside before. Hiding under the bed, maybe?

"How exactly _did_ you rescue us, if you don't mind me asking?" Daveth asked the old woman. She let a cackle loose, reminding everyone that she was cracked in the head.

"Why, I turned into a dragon and picked you all up, one in each hand and foot, of course." Which was followed by a fresh laugh. Alistair didn't seem to share her enthusiasm;

"Duncan is dead, the King is dead. Everyone is sodding _dead_. We're all that's left, and you are _laughing_?" Flemeth smiled and looked at Alistair like he was merely misunderstanding something.

"And why not? If evil threatens the world, surely we could all use a little laughing here and there." Flemeth mused, eyes shining with a spark of madness; "Still, I suspect Grey Wardens are more effective than laughter when it comes to fighting a Blight. Call it an old woman's intuition."

"That why you saved us?" Daveth asked. He didn't even seem to care about being afraid of talking to witches anymore.

"Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?" Flemeth mused before her expression became more serious; "It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the land against the Blight, regardless of their origins. Or did that change while I wasn't looking?"

"I think it changed when all but four of them were brutally slaughtered. And why the hell would Loghain even do this? I mean, he's just throwing men away." Talia exclaimed. It wasn't logical. It wasn't even illogical for a man to waste so many soldiers. There was just no sense to it, not even for a madman.

"'Suppose some people are just worse than Darkspawn." Daveth added silently; "Never figured it'd be the General though."

"True enough." Flemeth said; "Perhaps he thinks the Blight is an army he can out-maneuver. In that case he is a fool for not seeing the real threat behind the Blight."

"Yes, the Arch Demon, we know. Doesn't help us a sodding bit when we have all six of us to fight this with now. Unless Loghain offers his help all of a sudden." Aedan cursed.

"J'zargo thinks this one underestimates mages." The Khajiit chuckled. Talia brushed him off, returning her attention to the two warriors. She trusted Aedan the most, but Alistair _was_ the Senior in their group, meaning he was most likely to know what to do. Luckily, neither seemed to take the bait from J'zargo.

"Don't we still have those treaties?" Daveth asked, something like realization in his voice. Talia narrowed her eyes in confusion. Had they actually _brought_ the scrolls with them through the entire fight? Not that it hadn't proven a brilliant move, if it _was_ the case, but who the hell came up with the idea to bring valuable documents into a fight?

"Of course! The treaties!" Alistair exclaimed as if Daveth hadn't just asked; "We can get support from the elves and the mages and Orzammar with these!"

"Is that a lot?" Brelyna asked, joining the conversation. Nothing against it, really. She was just as curious as Talia tended to be, and here the Dunmer had been left out of the information. Alistair nodded furiously;

"It is. It's a whole lot. Orzammar alone should have an army the size of what Loghain made off with, if not more. And elves and mages…" Something akin to a light had appeared in Alistair's eyes as he spoke, like a religious devotion to the cause; "We could win this."

"Mmm, elves, mages and dwarves. This sounds like a proper army to me." Flemeth mused. Aedan offered Talia a small smile, the first real one she had seen on him so far, as their chances seemed to increase. She did her best to smile back, though the memories of what had happened, coupled with the fact that Brelyna and J'zargo wanted to risk their lives, took the joy from the situation. Alistair's smile more or less faded as Morrigan emerged from the hut;

"Supper is ready, Mother. Shall we have six guests for dinner, or none?" Talia's eyes widened a little at the mention of food. She was absolutely starving, and had no idea why. She'd eaten just before the battle started. Odd, but hopefully they would come across an inn soon. Or, Flemeth would invite them in for supper. She much preferred the latter.

"Our guests are leaving, girl, and you're leaving with them." Flemeth's words seemed to take a moment to register, as Morrigan's expression was unchanged through most of her sentence.

"Excellent, then I _WHAT_?" She outright yelled, staring at her mother like the old woman had gone insane. Insan_er_. More insane. Whatever was the right term.

"Ah…the Witch will accompany us?" J'zargo hummed, sounding a bit too pleased at the news. Talia knew she wasn't pleased. She didn't really like Morrigan, and had a feeling Morrigan didn't care if they all dropped dead on the spot. Well maybe except for J'zargo. Talia suspected Morrigan would smile if the cat dropped dead.

"You heard me girl. The last time I looked, you had ears." Flemeth cackled.

"And so pretty ones too." J'zargo was obviously enjoying this more than anyone else in the group. Talia groaned, realizing that the cat was back to getting his kicks from getting under people's skin. Still, there was an entertainment value to it this time.

Morrigan sent J'zargo an evil glare.

"Oh but I really don't know if we can just, you know, take her and all. I mean, she doesn't even want to." Alistair argued. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he didn't like Morrigan either. Odd, that Talia would find something in common with him in the dislike of a mage. Or witch, if one had to be anal about it.

"But won't her magic be, I dunno, really useful?" Aedan said. Talia stared at him, mentally kicking _him_ over the shin for that kind of comment. Mostly because he was right. No mage, including witches, was to be underestimated in a fight. Morrigan probably _would_ be a help.

"True. She also knows her way through the wilds and can guide you past the Darkspawn horde." Flemeth nodded; "I imagine you would like not to be caught by the Darkspawn, or is that your ultimate goal?"

"Not really." Daveth muttered from his seat on the stone.

"Have _I_ no say in this?"

"Oh come now, would you pass up the chance to travel with J'zargo? He so longs for the company of a decent mage." The cat's comment only made the sneer on Morrigan's face increase.

"And now a Khajiit sees more clearly than you, girl. You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years, and now you have the chance." Flemeth said; "Wardens. Understand that I am giving you that which I value most in this world."

"We will keep her safe, don't worry yourself." Daveth assured the old woman; "Don't think she'll need it though."

"Won't she be an apostate outside the Wilds though?" Alistair asked; "I mean, it _could_ be a problem if the Chantry comes after us."

"Refresh my mind. An apostate is, what, exactly?" Talia said as she looked between Morrigan, who looked ready to set J'zargo's whiskers on fire, and Alistair, who looked nervous as the prospect of having aforementioned with them.

"A mage outside the Chantry." Aedan reminded her; "You know, the whole thing with control and why they should be locked up and such."

Right. That had been it. She remembered their talk back at Highever now. It had probably been the catastrophic events soon after that had made her more or less deliberately forget as much as she could about Highever. Still couldn't forget the screams though.

She hid the unpleasant memory behind a scoff and a laugh;

"That'd be the day when your Chantry ever visits Tamriel." She gave Alistair an encouraging smile; "High Rock especially."

"Indeed, young man. Are your ideals so that you'd not accept help from us "illegal" mages?" Flemeth's words had some barb to them; "Perhaps we should have left you at the tower, then."

"I'd like help from you. Just, so you know." Daveth chirped. He remained sitting though, fiddling with the string for his bow. Morrigan didn't really seem eager to lend said help though;

"Mother, this isn't how I wanted this. I… I am not ready."

"You must be ready, my daughter. These people must reunite Ferelden against the Darkspawn. Without you, they will surely fail."

"But, they already have _three_ mages with them." Morrigan argued, gesturing at the College students. Brelyna groaned at the tension, while J'zargo merely, as per usual, seemed amused at the strife.

"You are capable of greater things than you know, child. The Blight will only grow worse, and all will perish under it. Even I." The fact that Flemeth would be gone as well, seemed to set something in Morrigan off-balance.

"I…_Fine_." Morrigan threw her hands up in defeat before looking at the Wardens, Alistair and Aedan specifically; "Allow me to get my things then…"

* * *

**Okay. So, I have been going over what you guys so far seem to think of the story, and the most common complaint is that I follow the game too much. Well, I am trying to do just not that, if it is any consolation. Just is, Ostagar is really difficult to get out of without pretty much copying the game. I know a lot of stories have managed to turn the battle completely around, and that's fine. Just isn't what I have in mind. _But_, I will promise as much as this story will start diverting from canon as soon as I can get away with it. T'is a lot more fun too, wrtiting something not in the game.**

**Second, if one is wondering why someone from brutal and harsh Skyrim is so affected by people dying, remember that Talia is a student. She isn't the Dragonborn, she never travelled the province and killed Dragons and monsters in scores. So far, her greatest battle was with the Draugr beneath Sarthal. So when a friend, like Onmund, dies, she will react like any student would to the death of a classmate with whom they shared dormitaory for three years.**


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